Never Look Back
by writers365block
Summary: Stendan AU fic. An unspecified present on an unnamed Mediterranean island: a dark and brooding Irish bar owner and a young Mancunian tour rep meet for the first time, having left behind their old lives in England to make a fresh start in the sun. Unapologetically makes use of other Hollyoaks characters and shamelessly riffs on some favourite Stendan scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

 **My first fanfic in longer than I care to admit so I hope I'm not too out of practice. I've never been much of an AU fan but having caught up with some of the fantastic Stendan stories on here I was inspired to write one myself, transporting the boys away to a different setting.**

 **Usual disclaimer: not making any money from this and certainly don't own the characters - if I did, Brendan wouldn't be rotting in jail, for a start…**

 **Chapter 1**

'Right guys! Listen up. We're here!' The tanned young holiday rep called out in a thick Mancunian accent, trying to recapture the wandering attentions of his increasingly inebriated tour group. 'This is our next stop and one of my personal favourites…' He turned and gestured like a gameshow hostess presenting a prize, directing the gaze of the assembled audience towards the awning-covered terrace of a bar, over which hung a dark green neon sign proclaiming the name of the place in capital letters, 'Brady's'.

As his gaze turned to follow his arms, the young rep found himself looking directly at the glowering figure blocking the threshold several metres away, a stern, dark haired man with a thick black moustache and shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, menacingly.

The vision on the horizon wasn't enough to dampen the young man's ebullient attitude, though.

'Just ignore the local wildlife,' he called, confidently holding the man's eye. 'His bite's much more pleasurable than his bark, or so I'm told.' He giggled slightly to himself at a private recollection that soon became public. 'I can't say I've been there personally, but my mate John Paul has been, and he said they got so carried away he nearly ended up in hospital! Best night of his life, John Paul said.'

'God Ste, you're terrible!' The hench black guy standing next to him brushed Ste's chest as he flirtatiously chastised him.

Brendan flinched at the contact between the two men.

When the second guy had opened his mouth to speak Brendan could see the gap in his teeth, even at this distance. He had seen him a few times before, training clients at one of the local gyms. Brendan knew at the time that there was something about that face he didn't like, and his brief moments here told Brendan that he had been right, as usual, in his prejudgement. Harmless enough but there was just something about that face he wanted to punch. And what was he doing here with a holiday group when he bloody lived here, anyway? Needing his hand holding? Chasing around after some mouthy rep? Brendan felt himself bristling.

'Thanks Noah, I'll take that as a compliment,' Ste retorted cheekily, not missing a beat and clearly not minding the attention.

Ste switched swiftly back to his duties. 'Here's your drink tickets guys!' He had to shout even louder now that the bass at the club next door had kicked in. 'Don't spend them all at once,' he cautioned as he made his way around the group, pressing a carefully counted ration of tickets into each of the group's palms. 'What am I saying? It's your holidays. Let your hair down!' Several of the group whooped their approval at this change of heart as they began to move along the terrace towards the now-vacated doorstep.

 _Typical Chez_ , Brendan thought to himself. She'd only come to visit for a fortnight but even fourteen days had been enough to cause lasting chaos.

 _Take the contract_ , she had said. _What's the worst that can happen?_ She had said. _You haven't been here that long, Bren. You can't be turning away guaranteed business._ And he knew she was right. But what she had failed to mention was that the deal she had agreed on his behalf through an old contact of hers wasn't any old weekly bar crawl; it was an LGBT bar crawl through that specialist queer operator. She might as well have hung a rainbow flag outside the place. It was her way of being supportive, he knew that, but it didn't stop him wanting to wring the necks of each and every one of those out-and-proud poofters that came through the door every week. And as for that scrawny fairy of a rep, cracking out crude comments, usually at Brendan's expense… Brendan took a swig out of the whiskey glass in his hand in a useless attempt to erase that piercing, knowing grin from behind his eyes and drown out the raucous laughter spreading all around him as though it was taunting him.

He had to try and relax. He'd come out here for a fresh start. No more secrets, no more lies, no more violence. But it was hard to break the habits of a lifetime, or at least the impulse towards them.

Each week he regretted not taking Tuesday nights off. Either he was a masochist, a workaholic, or there was something at home he didn't want to face; or more likely, it was all three.

 _It must feel like such a relief,_ Cheryl had said to him when he had come out to her, once the dust had settled and she'd picked her jaw up from the floor. Wasn't that what everyone thought? That admitting who you were was the hard part and then after that the words you used to tell everyone would somehow morph into a teleporter to happiness? Because Out equalled Proud, in their minds, didn't it? But that was far too simplistic an equation. Not that Brendan was ashamed. It just didn't mean that he had any greater tolerance for public displays of affection, particularly gay ones, than he did before. And just because he was gay he didn't have to like every fucking poof that walked through the door, did he? Straight people don't like every other straight person on Earth just because their fucking straight, do they?

And the truth was that he didn't feel all that much happier or like a changed man or that a weight had been lifted. Sure, he didn't feel the need to beat up any guy who so much looked at him the wrong way anymore, but it also wasn't as if he was getting much more action than he was before either. In fact, the bitter-sweet thought struck through him that he'd been having more sex with men when he was still with Eileen, living in the closet, than he was getting these days out here, regardless of the apparent hedonism of the place, the drinking, the casual sex, the endless stream of boys - gay, straight, tall, short, scrawny, butch - that walked the strip and into his bar every single night of the week. And of course he could have gone out there and picked up a stranger any time he liked, but he just didn't feel the desire to do that too often. But he did feel desire, however much he tried to swallow it down like a bottle of whiskey. He could feel it burning away in the pit of his stomach, that old catalyst, gnawing at him, like a swelling carbuncle that would one day explode - in violence or sex, or god forbid, his old, familiar combination of the two…

'Alright handsome.' The sound of Ste's cheery chorus and his physical intrusion into Brendan's eye-line brought his attention back to the here and now. He knew that Steven only did it to wind him up, saying things like that in an overly-perky way. He knew exactly which of Brendan's buttons to press to get a reaction. He couldn't compete with Brendan in terms of direct aggression, nor was he stupid enough to try, not with a work contact, anyway. So this was his game instead, a game from which he seemed to take almost visceral pleasure. _Each. And Every. Bloody. Week_.

'We're off now, so thanks for having us. I'm looking forward to next week already, sweetheart.'

 _Did he just wink at me?_ _The cheek._

'And try not scare the punters away with that pretty face of yours.' Ste turned to leave, calling back as he went, 'Miss you already!'

Why did it always seem so quiet in here after Steven's group left? There were still plenty of punters in the bar, but it felt to Brendan as if the life had been sucked out of the place. Or perhaps it was Brendan the life was sucked from, every time Steven left.

This week, Brendan didn't have to wait the full seven uneventful days that he usually had to last out before seeing Ste again. Sure, they bumped into each other out and about from time to time, but Brendan still had to do a double-take when the very next night he came out from the office onto the bar floor just as the evening was getting going and saw a familiar figure propped up with a beer in hand.

If he was honest, this happened frequently - not Ste's presence but Brendan thinking he had caught sight of him. More often than he would care to admit, if he happened to glimpse a similar slim frame or quaffed hair across the street or on the other side of the dance floor his brain jumped to the conclusion his body was longing for. It was that instinctive second look without registering properly who or what he expected to see, followed by the inevitable lurch of disappointment.

Tonight though, there was no doubt, no correction, no second pang. The figure was instantly recognisable, even if he wasn't wearing his usual red branded polo shirt. Instead, the young man was dressed in a sky blue shirt that echoed against the colour of his eyes and made them glow the endless, saturated cerulean that all those deluded holidaymakers pretended the sea, just few hundred yards away was. But Ste's eyes, they were the real thing.

'You not working tonight, Steven?'

'No, you see, got this beer in me hand and, like, I never drink on a work night me, so it must be me night off, right.'

Brendan looked down at the whiskey glass in his own hand and grunted. _One day, kid, one day you'll change your mind._

Coming from anyone else what Ste had said would have sounded idiotically longwinded or even sarcastic, but Ste had an uncensored candour that it was impossible to dislike, no matter how hard Brendan tried.

'So what you doing sat here?' Brendan tilted his head intently. He wanted to add _all on your own,_ but he bit his tongue. It was none of his business. _Repeat after me Brendan: it's none of your damn business._

'Yeah, proper busman's holiday, int'it? But you're just as bad. You can't keep away from this place. Don't you want a night off or a change of scene or sommat?'

For a brief moment, Brendan looked down at the floor between his feet and felt an uncomfortable wave of melancholy bubbling towards to surface. With practiced precision he pushed it down just as quickly as it had threatened to come over him completely and he broaden his shoulders back up to their usual lofty height.

'You see this, Steven?' He swept his arms out in front of him grandly. 'This isn't just a bar. This here is a man's castle. And I'm not here to work. I'm here to guard my empire,' he proclaimed, theatrically.

'You're all talk, you.'

'You think so?' He couldn't help but slip Steven a knowing grin. Their eyes didn't waver from each other. It was almost an exact repeat of the charged eye contact, the knowing smiles, the double meanings they had exchanged so briefly the first time they had met at the start of the season, when Brendan didn't know the other man's name and never for a second thought that he would have to see him again, let alone week after week… It was another memory Brendan was used to swallowing down, with varying degrees of success, given how the image of Steven Hay semi-clad and looking at him with that heart-stoppingly seductive smile was ingrained in his mind as though it had been burned behind his eyelids.

'Doesn't it get tiring though?' Ste's voice had softened into a meaningful tone that Brendan wasn't used to hearing. He wasn't sure whether he liked the sound of it or if he was alarmed by its seriousness. Or if he was alarmed that he liked the sound of it. 'I mean, I love me job right, but its a performance. Not like in that old job with the strippers and that. But it's still an act. Don't you want to stop sometimes, just take a night to sit on the sofa in your underpants and just be yourself for a bit?'

Brendan wanted to say that without the bar, without the act, he didn't know who else he was. Or perhaps it was that person, that _yourself_ , that he was trying so desperately to avoid. Or maybe he'd just been acting for so long that he didn't know where the line was anymore.

'Ah, the old job with the strippers.' Brendan feigned nostalgia to deflect the question.

'Don't say it like that, I saw your mug there. Never forget a face, me.'

'Yeah, that was my little sis's way of being supportive, believe it or not. Dragging me along to that place. NOT my cuppa tea.'

'Really? Cos I thought I saw you on your own there after that first time, more than once. Lurking at the back.' It wasn't a question.

'Well maybe I saw something that caught my eye. Maybe I had to go back for another look.' The statement was loaded with possibility, both men knew it. And there, as if by magic, it was again - that smile of Ste's, his lips curling ever so slightly at the edges, his eyes glinting as they threatened to be obscured by a fistful of the darkest lashes Brendan had ever seen. It was the smile that charged Brendan up and made him feel like he had oxygen in his blood again, that he could be human, living breathing, feeling, open to all those overwhelming emotions and desires he had worked so hard to keep in check, to keep from swallowing him whole.

'Brendan, mate. I think the barrel's gone.' Bloody Kevin.

'Kevin, mate,' Brendan practically spat the words at the intruder without bothering to turn his head from Steven's to look at the barman. 'Does that sound like my problem?' In a flash he was right up in Kevin's face, his eyes practically popping out of their sockets with the intensity of his glare. 'Does it? What do you think I pay you and that useless piece'a meat over there for?' His eyes gestured to where Rhys stood leaning over the bar, chatting up a group of girls. 'Yeah, yeah that's right.' His tone had softened but it was no less threatening. 'So I can be left in peace with the grown ups. Now run along.'

'Don't worry, I should be getting off anyway. I'll see ya around, Brendan. Cheers for the drink.' He downed the remnants of the bottle in his hand, slipped off the stool and disappeared into the stream of bodies moving along in the fluorescent light of the strip.

Brendan went straight back into his office and slammed the door behind him. Behind closed doors he let out a roar and swept the pile of papers from the top of the filing cabinet onto the floor. He hadn't needed reminding of those first times he had laid eyes on Steven. He had been trying so hard to forget that face, those eyes, ever since. And he had been remarkably successful in morphing that slick, nude body into someone else's; in his mind he had crowned those slim hips and ripe nipples with someone else unremarkable's face, dissociating that pert body from the perky young rep that appeared at his bar every week. Brendan was good at survival techniques.

The rage Brendan felt was partially tied up with the fact that he would never be able to erase the humiliating memory of the night Cheryl had dragged him practically kicking and screaming to that gay strip club.

 _So…any of them caught your eye, Bren_? She had said it so mischievously as she gazed around the dim room with wide eyes. Why did he have a feeling that she had enjoyed it in there more than he had? Not that that would have been hard. He found the whole experience humiliating, and he of all people was nearly impossible to embarrass.

 _As if, sis. I told you, this ain't my scene._

 _So many hunks though, Bren._ She continued to oggle the copiously lubricated, bronzed flesh parading around them. _Not even him?_ She was staring up at a bear of a man, biceps bulging like a bodybuilder and with an obscene swelling in his thong to match. _Probably muscled up to distract from the fact that he was significantly older than everyone else in the room_ , Brendan had noted.

 _Definitely not him._

 _No, I shoulda known you'd be after something a bit classier. I, on the other hand, have no such standards!_ She had positively cackled with delight.

When he had got home that night and had to put Chez to bed following all the excitement and one too many glasses of wine, he had firmly and quietly closed his bedroom door. Reclining back on the pillows in just his boxers he had flicked on his laptop and idly inserted the headphones. Although he had had no definite intentions when he lay down, it seemed inevitable what would happen next, what happened almost every night when he was alone in his apartment, though he usually didn't bother to try and conceal the sound.

He flicked up his regular porn site and began to flick through the alphabetical list of categories for something that might catch his eye. _Asian, Bareback, Bear, Big Dick_ … No, no, no and no. None of these was what he was looking for. … _Threesome_ , _Twink_ …He clicked on the link without a second thought, and hit download on the first half-decent looking thumbnail that he came across. He slipped his hand inside the fabric of his pants, pulling his stiffening dick out as the video loaded. With his free hand he scrolled through the timeline to try and get to the good bits. Tonight wasn't the night for a leisurely wank. He needed instant relief, for his mind as much as his body.

Why had he chosen this one? There was a niggling feeling in Brendan's brain that there was something about the young actor on screen that seemed familiar. It wasn't until he shut his eyes as his cheap orgasm flooded over him that he made the unwanted realisation. The face on screen was just similar enough - the haircut, the hips, those butt cheeks - just close enough to allow himself for a split second the fantasy that he was seeing someone else on that screen. That smile… How the fuck was it possible that after spending a night surrounded by naked flesh and with the hardcore action taking place on the screen in front of him that when he closed his eyes it was nothing more than a smile that prompted his orgasm to take over his entire body? He did his best to bury the thought, but as he shut his eyes again and prayed for sleep to take him, his mind had continued to run over the events of the evening.

Chez had gone to the toilet and left him at the bar to get the next round of drinks in.

'I could've told her when you first walked in that those guys aren't your type,' the scrawny barman had leaned in towards Brendan as he almost whispered in his thick Mancunian accent. He must have caught their conversation.

'Is that right?'Brendan had drawled back, working out whether he should be turned on or affronted.

The young man had moved from behind the bar and was now collecting empty glasses from the table next to where Brendan was perched. Brendan had spun round to follow his movements and was now leaned back with elbows on the bar, subconsciously thrusting his groin forward. He was a predator in his natural habitat. He had grown up in bars and clubs. He had picked up more men and started more fights in these places than he cared to remember, but that didn't stop a prickle of electricity running over his skin.

This new position gave Brendan a perfect view of the lad's tight buttocks curving out from his slight frame, the slender jut of his hips, the hardly visible tufts of hair that thickened towards the waistband of the uniform briefs, his only current clothing, that the staff had to wear. He wasn't waxed to within an inch of his life, Brendan noted with approval. He was so unlike the rest of the meatheads in that place. It was disarming.

Neither man said any more, but as he moved to the next table and out of Brendan's earshot the young barman had turned around and looked at Brendan over his bare shoulder, catching the older man's shameless gaze and clearing enjoying every moment of it. Despite his youthful face and air of innocence, the look on his face was filthy, a knowing stare through thick black lashes that said not only _I know exactly what's your type_ but undressed Brendan as he stood there, as though he could see the hot, bare skin prickling with the faintest trace of sweat beneath his clothes. It was a look that instinctively told Brendan that this guy knew exactly how Brendan wanted him to take it, what those hands gripping those glasses could do to him, what it would feel like to press flesh onto flesh in the heat of the moment. It was almost enough to get Brendan hard, just looking at him. But Brendan hadn't expected it to be that same glance that would cut into his brain and push him over the edge of a searing orgasm just a few hours later as his dick throbbed in his hand and hot drops of come splattered across his fingers and stomach.

The relief of the accumulated pressure was enough to send him straight to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

 **Thank you all for the lovely words of encouragement - they mean the world. Hope you enjoy the next chapter, hot on the heels of the first. Didn't want you to wait too long for this so that you have the chance to warm up to the story a bit more. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 2**

It was Tuesday night in the club. Brendan had been perched on his usual bar stool surveying his empire. He had broken up one fight tonight already and he wasn't in the mood for another. He was tense and finding it hard to concentrate.

The fact that his eye kept drifting back to follow the familiar figure of the young holiday rep wasn't helping matters, nor was the gnawing feeling that the only way to fight the hideous, self-inflicted hangover he was suffering from was with more alcohol.

 _Fight fire with fire_.

He'd done that too many times to count in recent weeks, so he knew all too well that there was a pain barrier, a threshold of nausea he had to break through to get to the reassuring, numb oblivion on the other side.

Just as he reached behind the bar to top up his glass, Ste came sloping over unsteadily.

'Hiya! Y'alright Brendan? What's wrong with you?' Ste looked at him, questioningly, tilting his head as if genuinely concerned and mildly bewildered at the same time. 'Why you always sitting over here on your own like a miserable old git?'

 _Is he slurring or is that just the whiskey slowing my brain down, finally?_

'Because despite what you pretend I know that you're not.' He was talking even more ramblingly than usual, barely coming up for air as his words ran into each other. 'And I ain't lying or suckin' up or nothing when I say you're me favourite on the bar circuit. You are Brendan. I mean it. So handsome, even though you know it.'

 _Is he about to pinch my fucking cheeks while he's at it and tell me how much I've grown?_

'And you know what, Brendan Brady, you ain't fooling me.' Ste pushed him firmly on the shoulder but Brendan, solid in his stance and well used to rough physical contact, barely budged.

With anyone else Brendan would have treated such behaviour as a confrontation, an easy excuse for a roughing up; but with young Steven, who was usually so sharp and sensible, so together, he couldn't help but raise a smile to meet the wide beam facing him. He had never seen Steven this loose, this inebriated. It was fucking funny.

But Ste wasn't finished with his assessment of the real Brendan Brady just yet.

'An'you ain't as macho as you like to pretend, either.' He sounded serious despite the slurring. He chose at that moment to squeeze Brendan's bicep cheekily. 'Well, maybe you are quite macho,' he was grinning again. 'But I know there's a big heart under there, Brendan, you just have to show it.' His hand moved across Brendan's body and the palm came to rest against his chest. Feeling the warmth coming off the boy in the centre of his being was like electricity straight into Brendan's sluggish veins. Ste's head fluttered to watch where his hand was resting, just for a few seconds.

Brendan wanted to lift his own hand from his side and bring that head towards his own, to lift it gently under the chin and kiss him, or - hell, what was he thinking - to press that head down towards the pressure building beneath his belt - he felt certain that Ste would be receptive, maybe even wanted it as much as Brendan did.

But before Brendan had the chance to process the sensations rushing through him, Steven had taken his hand away, turned sharply on his heel and was back amongst the throngs.

 _What the hell was that about?_

Brendan's next hour or so passed in the usual way: Kevin hassling him for attention and Rhys spending more time chatting up women than working, while Brendan simmered away beside the bar, surveying it all.

The problem was, that although Brendan's eyes were fixed on the goings on in the bar, his mind wouldn't stop wandering back to the feel of Steven's hand against him, how it would feel clutching onto his bicep for support as Brendan thrust, naked, into him, or what those long fingers would feel like wrapped around his dick…

Without thinking, he looked up to see where Steven was now. His eyes scanned the crowed room, but he couldn't see the familiar outline he craved. Until - there he was, his back turned, on the terrace outside, in his bright red work shirt unsteadily making his way down the path, propped against that pervy old guy in the glasses.

Brendan felt something stirring within him - bile? Jealousy? Alarm bells? Yes, that was it.

Where was Ste going? His tour group was still in the bar, drinking away their way through pre-paid tickets. Surely he wasn't leaving them on their own?

Something wasn't right, Brendan knew it instinctively, suddenly.

 _Never drink on a work night, me._ The words echoed around in Brendan's head as if a gun shot had gone off.

He leapt over the bar and was down the path in an instant, pushing away anyone who stood unsuspectingly in his way, adrenaline surging through his system and his fists ready for the flight or fight defence. But in this state there would be no contest, no stopping him - not even an earthquake or a bolt of lightning from God would be able to stand in his way.

'Steven! Steven!'

A few drinkers on the terrace turned to look but most people were too drunk to notice the fast-moving figure, too deafened by the beating music to hear his shouts.

In a few lithe strides Brendan caught them up and grabbed Steven's arm, pushing him protectively behind him, shielding him with his body. Roughly he pushed the greying man away, sending him flying backwards but not completely over, onto the outside table behind. The old guy sent a a cool palm down the side of his forehead to slick down his comb-over and prepared a dignified, victimised front with which to counter the aggressive manner of his confronter.

'I'm fine, I'm fine…'

As if anyone had asked.

'What the fuck do you think you're doing?' Brendan's face was vivid red with anger, his hand still holding tight to the arm of the swaying boy behind him. But he didn't have a chance to see through his accusations, as he felt Steven's dragging on his arm as he toppled to the ground. The change of Ste's weight earthwards was so sudden it took Brendan most of the way with him, spinning him round so that he was almost crouching beside the boy.

Brendan brought a protective hand to the side of Ste's face. He was sweating profusely 'Steven, can you hear me? Steven?'

Brendan couldn't have been more surprised to have his urgent questioning returned with a giggle.

'Brendan, Brendan.' Ste was hiccuping and giggling his words, his eyes firmly closed as he palmed at the hand that was still pressed against his face and moved it across to brush it against his lips. He kissed the fingertips as lightly as he could manage the state he was in. Adrenaline, desire - something unspeakable made Brendan's stomach lurch uncontrollably as the touch. 'You look after me,' he said as he moved Brendan's hand back to his cheek and held it there.

'Yeah, yeah I do,' Brendan said soothingly.

'But who's gunna rescue you, Brendan?' Ste eyes flickered open beneath his spidery lashes, just for a second, and looked right into Brendan's gaze, before passing out completely.

—

Hospitals weren't Brendan's favourite places at the best of times - too many memories he'd rather erase, that brain-thudding lighting, shit coffee and the unshakable scent of desperation - let alone when no-one would tell him anything and he had, instead, to listen to the mindless chatter of uncontrollably drunk Brits on holiday that seemed to fill the A&E waiting room. It was excruciating to put up with and embarrassing to be associated with. Old Brendan would have started at least three fights in the time he had had to wait until, at last, they let him see Steven.

Finally, at some indistinct hour before dawn, a neat, dark-haired nurse led him through to the section of ward that they had curtained off around the boy. He looked thinner than Brendan remembered and as a result even more fragile - how was that possible in only a few hours? His eyes were open but so heavy that when Brendan gazed down at him he could barely see his eyes at all; instead he was met with an eyeful of those impossibly dark lashes fluttering gently.

'Gave us a real scare back there, didn't ya?' There was tenderness in his voice as he tried to soften the situation for Steven's sake. It worked and Brendan was rewarded with that grin, the one that seemed to cut Brendan's inside to shreds and tie them back together again in great big messy knots.

Once Brendan had sat down he let his hand slip up to Ste's forehead and stroked along his brow. His skin was clammy and his dark hairline moist with beads of sweat. Brendan swallowed down the memory of sitting at his sons' besides like this when they had come down with fever that time, or when Cheryl had fallen off her bike as a kid and given herself concussion.

 _This isn't the same thing. This boy's practically a stranger. You aren't responsible for him._

Ste quickly fell back to sleep again, his hand pressed into one of Brendan's, whose other hand rested in amongst tufts of Ste's hair. He stroked it gently as he watched the boy's chest rise and fall underneath the bedsheets.

How much he wanted to drop his head down and plant the softest of kisses on those beautifully protruding lips, just the faintest graze…

Next thing he knew, Brendan was waking up at the sound of footstep approaching along the corridor. He looked up from the position he had fallen asleep in, his forehead resting on the side of the bed, when a familiar yet unwanted voice exclaimed, 'Ste!'

Brendan opened his eyes in time to see Noah rushing over to the opposite side of the bed and pick up Ste's free hand. The patient stirred, opening his eyes just a fraction with a small groan.

'Easy there, Steven.' Brendan squeezed Ste's hand tighter and, removing the hand from his hair, reached to the bedside table for the glass of orange fluid placed there. He positioned the straw between Ste's lips. 'Here - try and drink a bit of this.'

It was only at that intimate gesture that Noah seemed to register Brendan's presence.

'I'll take that.' He reached in and firmly grasped the plastic glass, expecting Brendan to release his hand. He clearly didn't know Brendan Brady.

'Easy tiger,' Brendan got to his feet, rising to meet Noah's stature, still clutching the cup as it moved away from Ste's mouth. 'I got this,' he hissed from between gritted teeth.

'It's ok,' Ste croaked, barely audible, attempting to diffuse the situation.

'How you feeling babe?' Noah decided to try a different tactic and his attention turned to Ste instead as he backed down, showily leaning over to give Ste a kiss squarely on the lips, then looking deliberately straight back at Brendan.

Brendan could only curl his lip in disgust at the sight.

Ste coughed slightly. 'Terrible. Like the worst hangover ever.'

Brendan had breathed a sigh at the sound of Ste's voice, just about coherent again, his tongue clinging onto the 'g' of 'hangover' in that thick accent that should have annoyed Brendan, did annoy Brendan on anyone else, but somehow not on Ste. There had been a terrifying split second back there somewhere when Brendan had confronted the possibility that he might never hear that voice again.

 _Get yourself out of here, Brady. He's fine now and staying isn't going to get you anywhere except a police cell. Be smart, cut your loses_ , the voice said.

'Fine. I get it, three's a crowd. I'll see ya, Steven.' Brendan tried a brief smile. It didn't stick and Brendan didn't hang around for a response.

—

Brendan could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Ste's familiar figure loping into the bar later that same evening.

'Didn't expect to see you up and about so soon,' was all Brendan managed to get out. That wasn't all he wanted to say but he bit back the rest of the words: _What the hell are you doing here? Get back to bed. Look after yourself. And definitely don't walk around on your own at night after what happened. Especially as I was stupid enough and too distracted with you to let that Silas bloke get away._

 _But at least while he's here I can keep an eye on him,_ said another voice _._

It wasn't just words that Brendan had to bite back. He would never have admitted it, but he knew the feeling deep down, that he wanted to wrap his arms around Steven, to pull him so close that nothing could ever touch him again. Only something flickering in Brendan's eyes gave him away.

Ste looked back at Brendan intently, somehow, unnervingly, tapping into the other man's concern. Unprompted he said, 'Don't worry, Noah's on his way so he'll look after me. I mean, I'm not going to be out late on me own or anything tonight.'

 _That's supposed to be comforting? That you're going to be out with some other guy?_ The words made Brendan feel sick to his stomach. _That he'll be the one take you home to bed and "look after you" when the night's over as well?_ Brendan felt a familiar rage brewing in his belly.

'Good, well as long as you're not going to be alone tonight,' Brendan tried his best to summon his coolest front as he spoke.

Ste's mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. What he thought he heard Brendan saying wasn't the same as the words that were coming from his lips, somehow didn't match up with the expression on his face. Or was he right in detecting a trace of hurt in the tone?

 _Why would Brendan Brady be bothered what I was up to? You're imagining it. Brendan doesn't care about anyone except Brendan Brady._

Brendan swallowed hard and attempted to follow up what he had just said with something more lighthearted, but despite the attempt at a grin on his face it still sounded husky and laden with meaning that Ste couldn't grasp. 'You gave us a real fright back there, kid.' _You gave me a real fright back there kid._

'Yeah, well I was dead lucky. I mean, to have you looking out for me an'all.'

'Just doing my job.' There was that detached tone again, not matching the glint of something deeper glazing his eyes.

Ste gazed back at Brendan as they spoke, taking in the characteristic movements of his features, trying to make sense of the almost-concealed emotions that whispered across his face, holding eye contact for just a touch too long. It made Ste's stomach do summersaults, being stood so close like this, almost being able to feel Brendan's body heat, to taste the whiskey on Brendan's breath…it was intoxicating.

'Noah!' Suddenly Ste's eyes diverted from Brendan and over the Irishman's shoulder to the figure entering the bar. Was Brendan imagining it or did Steven look a little flushed, a little guilty even?

'Hiya babe, how you feeling?' Noah asked, planting a kiss on Ste's lips before he had the chance to respond.

It took every ounce of strength Brendan could summon not to grab the guy by the scruff of the neck and throw him back out onto the street where he came from. But this was New Brendan. He had to remain calm. He would have to be smarter than that.

'Yeah alright, ta. I was just saying to Brendan, that's why we came in.' He spoke as if trying to remind Noah of a conversation they had already had. 'Cos I didn't get to thank him properly for last night, remember.' He turned back towards Brendan, his brow furrowing with his earnest tone as he looked up from beneath those eyelashes. 'I'd like to do sommat as a thank you. Take you out for a drink if you like? Wait, that's silly, you own a bar.' Ste sounded annoyed at himself for saying something he realised was stupid and looked down at his hands in embarrassment. 'You don't need me buying you drinks.' He looked up back at Brendan coyly: 'Or a bite to eat, right, say thanks properly?'

Ste was still holding Brendan's gaze when Noah decided to chip in.

'Yeah, we could all go. Make it a double date.'

 _Butt out Noah._ Brendan could feel himself tense in response to that most unhelpful of suggestions. Was this guy stupid or was he doing it deliberately? _You're not needed here. Where were you when Steven was in trouble? This has got nothing to do with you. He's too good for you and the sooner he realises that the better. And he will realise it, young Noah. Mark my words._

But instead of saying any of that, Brendan grimaced a smile and said, 'Yeah, yeah, sounds good, lemme know, yeah,' and he turned to leave without looking back.

—

The dreaded evening came all too soon. Brendan had tried to get out of it but somehow he had found it impossible to disappoint Steven, to let him down; his Steven, who had looked so fresh and keen when he had come into the bar the other day and said so simply, 'I hope you're looking forward to tomorrow night as much as I am,' before rushing back outside to his latest group with a mile-wide grin on his face.

And not that he liked to admit it, but for the last few weeks Brendan had felt like there was a constant itch prickling under his skin and the only way to stop it was spending time with that stupid little poofter. Except he wasn't a stupid little poofter, however hard Brendan tried to dismiss him with flippant insults. He was Steven. His Steven.

No, there was no getting out of it. Brendan was going to have to do whatever he could to make the best of the situation.

—

Brendan was sitting at the bar, slurping back his third whisky of the evening when Noah and Ste arrived together. There were a few early evening drinkers in the room as well, but generally it was pretty quiet. Brendan looked up briefly and without acknowledging incoming pair went straight back to the dregs of his glass.

'Alright,' Ste said chirpily, his inimitable accent lingering on the air.

Brendan did little more than grunt in response, then seemingly getting himself together, managed to offer them a drink. He passed them each a bottle of beer and topped up his own glass liberally.

Brendan didn't seem in a talkative mood and the tension between the group was growing with every silent second. Noah had all but decided to give him the dumb, glaring treatment anyway, so it was left to Ste to fill the silence - which he did easily with his usual loose flow of trivialities. He stopped abruptly when a young guy appeared from behind Brendan and immediately settled his hand on the Irishman's shoulder.

'Hope I'm not late for you darlin',' The newcomer stated in a thick Scottish accent, accompanied by a cheeky smile.

'I'd say you're perfectly on time.' Brendan turned towards him with a feline grin on his face. 'Steven, Noah, this is Sean. Can't have a double date without a..' he tilted his head to the side as wrapped his lips around the word.. 'date,' he finally spat out menacingly, 'now can we?'

Brendan's stunt had the desired effect as Ste and Noah looked at each other in surprise. There was just a trace of another emotion on one of their faces. Perturbed. That would be the word for the expression that any of the men present would have detected on Ste's face had they been studying it closely enough; but Brendan was too busy looking at Sean, and Noah was too gobsmacked looking at Brendan looking at Sean.

'Shall we, gentlemen?' Brendan said, offering Sean his arm as the group set off towards a nearby restaurant.

—

'I'll have the _calamari fritti_ to start please, then the _tagliatelle al salmone,_ ta.' The Italian words rolled off Ste's tongue. His pronunciation and emphasis were surprisingly impeccable. He blushed slightly as he felt the table looking at him with bemusement on their faces. 'When I worked in the restaurant business, me old boss Tony was well into Italian and all that, so he taught me a few words. Can't really put a sentence together but I'm alright with the words for food. Don't sound quite right when I say it though, does it?' He smiled self-deprecatingly.

'I think it's sweet,' Noah crooned, stroking Ste's leg under the table

'Ahhhhh..' Brendan threw back, sarcastically imitating his rival, 'Sweeeeet.' What was wrong with Noah? Physically, he looked like a beast from all that time he spent in the gym but he was clearly a wet fucking pussy _._ And no-one at this table wanted one of talking in that voice was fucking hot, Brendan thought to himself, not the kind of 'sweet' you'd call a kitten _. And imagine what else he can do with that tongue. Bet you wouldn't even know what to do with it, Noah, would you now?_

Ste's skill had impressed Brendan too, not just gone straight to his trousers. To look at, Ste was just another good-looking young lad, ten-a-penny out here, but barely scratch the surface and it was as though he had lived a dozen lives already, done and seen more than other people do in fifty years.

'You not gonna eat them olives?' Ste reached diagonally across the table and helped himself from Brendan's plate.

Brendan, for an instant, looked back in disbelief before retorting, 'Maybe I was saving them for later?'

'No you weren't,' Ste pinched another one and carried on with the story he was telling about when he worked in the restaurant with this Tony guy.

It was only a few moments later that Sean cockily leaned into Brendan's space and plucked two chips from beside his steak.

'Get your hands off! What in god's name do you think you're doing?' Brendan reacted as if someone had dropped a jug of ice-cold water into his lap. 'I never share my food, got it?'

'But Ste…'

'Never!'

The table went back to their meals in silence.

'So, how did you guys say it was you met?' Noah ventured after a few awkward minutes had passed and they had finished they had put down their cutlery.

'Oh, we go way back, don't we Brendan?' Sean reached out to squeeze Brendan's hand as he spoke. 'We first met years ago back in Liverpool. Couldn't believe my eyes when we bumped into each other out here, too. It seemed like it was meant to be.' Brendan felt himself bristle at the touch. He had warned Sean about that. _Like you're my doting plaything._ That was the brief Brendan had given him. _But don't you dare touch me._ But the boy was a bloody good actor, Brendan gave him that.

'Cos you never mentioned anything about seeing someone,' Ste added, finding it hard to conceal a note of disappointment in his voice. He didn't seem to want to make any eye contact, as though he was sudden feeling self-conscious or insecure. It made him look younger, boyish.

The plan was starting to come together nicely, Brendan thought. _Time for phase two._

Without any warning, Brendan abruptly threw a wad of notes down on the table and headed for the door. He didn't bother to look behind him.

Back in the comfort of his own bar, Brendan flung himself down on a sofa in the corner. He was glad he'd had the sense to reserve it, given that the place was heaving already.

The other men followed him and sat down on the seats around him.

'Drinks?' Brendan said, reverting naturally back to the role of host though maintaining a hint of hostility in his voice. 'There's a bottle up there with our name on it.' He uncrossed his legs leisurely and made to get up to go to the bar.

'You relax, darlin', I'll get it.' Sean jumped up instead. Brendan glared at the arm easing him back into his seat. 'Perhaps you could give me a hand, Noah? Make use of those arms of yours.'

'Yeah. Sure. Why not,' Noah responded, flatly. He glanced at Ste a little uncomfortably as he got up.

The two men pushed through the heaving bar. Just as they approached their destination and were about to muscle their way through to claim their bottle, the DJ started the next song. Sean suddenly sprang to life, bouncing on his toes with excitement.

'I love this one! Let's dance!'

'What about the drinks…' Noah began to say, unenthused, but Sean cut him off.

'Forget the drinks!' he yelled, grabbing his arm and dragging a reluctant-looking Noah to the dance floor.

Ste and Brendan watched them as they went.

'He seems nice,' Ste ventured, sounding unconvinced.

'You think? Wouldn'a thought he was your type.'

'No, I didn't mean it like, that. I just meant that…well…he…' He was having trouble getting the words out.

'He does have his advantages,' Brendan added, provocatively.

'Oh right, um…' Brendan really wasn't helping to put the lad at ease.

'But let's just say he's a temporary measure. Filling in until someone else comes along. Someone better.' The intensity of Brendan's stare in his peripheral vision was making Ste blush. He had to keep looking straight ahead and not at Brendan to stand any chance of keeping his composure.

 _How does he do that? How does he make everything sound like a come-on? Like he's about to jump my bones at any second. Like he can see me naked right now._

Brendan had paused just long enough to let his previous comment sink in. When he opened his mouth to speak again he had changed his tone so drastically it was disarming. 'Where are these drinks?' He leapt up and headed towards the bar.

 _Why doe he always do that? He must know how unnerving it is_. A thrill ran underneath Ste's skin.

'Um, I'll give you a hand..' Ste added weakly, following suit.

Brendan had reached the bar but was now staring over to the dance floor rather than helping himself as he usually did.

Brendan tutted as Ste caught him up. 'Looks like we've found ourselves two naughty boys.' He didn't sound surprised to see Sean and Noah, lips locked together as they swayed to the music, their hands hinting at the kind of activities that were enough to get you thrown out of most respectable establishments.

When, a few seconds later, the pair came up for air, they must have felt the keen bore of two pairs of eyes on them. Noah looked round in time to see the shock fixed on Ste's face just before he ran towards the door.

He bolted straight from the bar, over the road and down the sandy path to the beach.

His face was hot and there was something pulsing behind his eyes - blood, tears, uncontrollable emotions - as he mentally chastised himself for being so stupid, for thinking Noah cared, to think that he, Ste, might have been worth something.

He was sitting with his knees up looking out across the waves, berating himself, when Brendan caught up. He took his time to approach, gauging Ste's mindset, taking in the image, before approaching slowly, with all the confidence of a big cat on the prowl.

Ste's head turned as he heard the gentle sound of someone approaching. Brendan rested his hand lightly on Ste's shoulder, just for a moment, before sliding to the ground beside him.

Neither man said anything, the sound of waves and distance dance music filling the silence.

'Do you ever wonder how you ended up here?' Ste asked finally.

'All the time, Steven. All the time.' Ste wasn't used to hearing Brendan speak in such a melancholy tone of voice. Gone was the bravado and the wise-cracking, confrontational front Ste was accustomed to.

'But one thing this life has taught me that looking back doesn't do any good either.'

'Wherever I go and whatever I do, just feels like nothing changes, you know? New town, different people, same old flippin' story.'

Brendan's gentle 'hmph' confirmed that he knew the feeling.

'I mean, what's wrong with me?'

'Nothing Steven! Absolutely nothing.' It was like a shot of vigour had surged through Brendan as his voice became impassioned. 'Don't you ever say that, you hear?' The conviction of his words made Ste turn in surprise. 'You've got absolutely everything going for you. You have.'

'So why is it then, whenever I like someone, do I end up feeling so stupid and worthless?' He was looking back down at his hands again now, wringing his palms together.

 _Oh shit_ , thought Brendan. _Please tell me he isn't about to cry_.

'That Noah guy, who the hell is he, anyway? You're worth a hundred of him, you are. I promise you, Steven.'

Ste had turned to face him again, and Brendan could see how flushed his cheeks were in the moonlight: from the heat of the summer's night, from the rush of emotions, from the unexpected words Brendan was pressing home to him, words that Ste had craved for so long…

Before Brendan even knew what was happening, Ste had leaned in and closed the gap between them.

Brendan had felt himself being drawn into this man's world since the start, beyond the power of his usually unshakable self-control, since that very first night in that grotty male strip club. He had known straight away like a warning ringing through his brain that Ste was different, something special. He had known it when his face had appeared in his mind's eye and sent him into overload as he had touched himself. He had know it in the pit of his stomach when Steven had turned up as the rep on the night of that very first bar crawl. He couldn't let himself believe it, couldn't let himself be threatened by it, but now there was nowhere to hide, nothing he could do except surrender to how much he wanted this, to how much he wanted Steven…

At first the kiss they shared was warm and soft, a tentative touch yet filled with intent, a gentle opening for the heated rush that followed hotly behind.

Driven by desire, Brendan pushed Ste back into the sand so that the younger man was lying beneath him, pressing up hungrily into the pressure of Brendan's body and mouth as Brendan began trailing kisses along Ste's neck and earlobe, sending goosebumps pricking over his entire skin.

'Show me how much I'm worth,' Ste murmured huskily into Brendan's ear. In response he felt Brendan's body drive into him, pushing him harder into the sand, feeling the solid pressure already formed at Brendan's groin, the growing urgency of his intent.

 _Everything. You're worth everything._ Had Brendan managed to get the words out? Or had he just thought them as he thrust his hips desperately against the young man beneath him.

'Come back to mine and I'll show you,' was what Brendan managed to get out instead, his tongue trailing breath against Ste's ear as the young man moaned and gripped his fingers into the sand beneath them.

This was perfect, Ste was perfect, better than Brendan could have imagined. The sweetness of Ste's breath from the drinks, the softness of his skin, his firm, tight body, the warm sand, lapping waves, stars shining somewhere distantly overhead…

Too perfect.

A loud throat-clearing from above them brought the two men back down to earth with bump.

'Why doesn't this surprise me. Should have known this was just another one of your games, Brendan Brady.' It was Noah, towering overhead.

 _Not now Noah,_ Brendan implored.

He pulled himself slightly away and took a deep breath, making up his mind whether it worth the hassle of completely detaching himself from Steven to stand up and confront this loser, or if he could get away with a quick quip about unwanted interruptions while remaining in the warm and dizzyingly responsive nook where he currently lay.

But in the end he didn't have to decide. Ste had rolled over and jumped up from underneath him, and was now squaring up to Noah, despite the sizeable difference in stature that was clearly visible from the position Brendan had eased into.

'Bit rich talking about games, coming from you, innit?' Ste was practically gnashing his teeth at the man.

Noah sighed and, unperturbed, looked down at Brendan, whose face was flitting between glaring at Noah and barely concealing his proud amusement at Ste's sudden resemblance to a pit bull.

'Do you want to tell him what's really going on, or shall I?' Noah held Brendan's eye, warning him in no uncertain terms that he had been found out.

'What do you mean what's really going on? You see cos this here ain't none of your business anymore Noah,' Ste spat.

'Is that right? Because I thought you might be interested to know how your knight in shining armour here paid that guy to come out with him tonight _and_ how he paid him to try it on with me. So it might not be any of my business anymore, but just thought you might like to know before you swapped a cheat for a liar.' Noah didn't wait around to see his grenade go off.

Ste was gobsmacked. His mouth dropped open and he only managed a shake of his head before he turned in the opposite direction and stormed off.

'Steven! Steven! I never lied to ya. Wait! Just listen to me Steven!' Brendan knew it sounded pathetic and hollow as scrambled to his feet and shouted after the rapidly disappearing figure.

'Save it Brendan. I don't wanna hear it.' He barely turned to say the words over his shoulder and he certainly didn't slow down.

'Please Steven, just listen to me…'

'I'm so stupid. How could I have thought that you were any different to the rest of them. I nearly believed you. I nearly believed…' He paused. 'Never mind. Just do one, Brendan.'

They had reached the strip of bars and several bystanders had turned to look at the scene taking place. Brendan was left helpless as Ste slid expertly through the crowds and away from him.

So close. They had been so close.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

 **Thank you all for the lovely reviews of the last chapter. Sorry I can't reply to guest reviews (not sure if that's just me being retarded or if the system doesn't allow it) but I really do appreciate them all. Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long for this chapter - let's call it a St Paddy's Day treat in honour of our favourite Irishman ;)**

 **Chapter 3**

'Nice tricycle, Noah.' Brendan seemed genuinely amused. 'Where'd you pick that thing up, playgroup?'

Brendan had heard the pathetic spluttering of a scooter - it couldn't be called a bike - outside his bar and had gone out for a better look. This was even better than he was expecting, that brainless hulk of a man looking completely ridiculous sitting on the back of a wheezy little excuse for a machine. And there was Steven, fawning over him, though Brendan knew his boy well enough to know it was through half-gritted teeth.

Y _ou might be fooling that idiot, but you ain't fooling me._

'I think you look well fit,' was the best that Ste could manage.

Ste hadn't forgiven Noah for his display with Sean but he didn't think that Brendan needed to know that, so he slid over and let his arm linger against Noah's girthy bicep and tilted his head as he let out a soft, flirtatious giggle.

 _All for my benefit, Steven? You shouldn't have._

'And there was me thinking a big boy like you could handle something a bit tougher,' Brendan started. 'But it looks like you've got quite a taste for something scrawny between your thighs.' He looked both men up and down with a look that managed to be both sexual and disdainful at the same time. It was classic Brendan Brady.

The boys just looked at Brendan with disgust but didn't manage a response.

'No-on ever told you that real men ride motorbikes?' Brendan added, because he could.

It was almost too easy for, the comments too ripe for the picking.

 _Candy from a baby._

'Is that right? So what does that make you then, Brendan?' Ste spat back.

'Oh I think we both know I'm all man,' he was purring. The sound was confrontational yet deeply seductive. He saw Ste swallow hard. 'With the goods to prove it. Let me know when you realise that what you really want is a ride with a real man, Steven.'

Brendan turned and was about to walk away, leaving the dust to settle in his wake, when a voice behind him piped up, 'You've got a bike? I'd be well up for coming out with you for a ride sometime.' It was Kevin.

Ste winced as he waited for the inevitable backlash. He knew Brendan well enough to know that wasn't the kind of over-familiar comment Brendan took from his employees, particularly from Kevin, who was always clumsily trying to flirt with his boss. It was embarrassing to watch.

Ste's anticipation of what was to come made the shock even greater when instead of seeing his prediction materialise, Brendan cupped Kevin's cheek in his hand and drooled, 'Yeah, yeah, a ride, why not. Good lad.' His hand patted Kevin's cheek where it had rested. He shot a glance back at Ste and Noah, and with a 'See ya!', he stalked off back into the bar.

 _If Steven wants to play games, let the games begin._

A few moments later a familiar voice rang out in the empty venue.

'So what was all that, back there? With Kevin?'

After seeing his plan hadn't worked and his sulky looks in Brendan's directions weren't even registering with the other man, Ste's impatience had got the better of him and he had followed Brendan into the bar. Because he had been patient already, hadn't he? He'd waited nearly a week for Brendan to come looking for him, for an apology, for anything - but the cold shoulder, silent treatment and that display with Kevin and Noah was all that his restraint had been rewarded with.

'I don't know what you're talking about, Steven.' Brendan looked back at Ste darkly, his face stoney and giving absolutely nothing away.

He should have known that Steven didn't have a game plan in coming in here; the opening gambit outside was all he had in his hand. The real game of chess would have to wait for another time, but Brendan was sure that with a bit of practice Steven would get the hang of it. And how Brendan loved a game of human chess. The tactics, the anticipation, the shape of possibilities beginning to play out. Tantalising.

 _It really gets me in the mood_.

'You haven't even apologised, for what happened before. What you did.' Ste had bee waiting all week to confront Brendan but he couldn't be sure that was really why he had followed him inside.

Brendan tilted his head, feigning confusion. 'Why would I apologise?'

'For messing things up for me. For getting in the way of me and Noah. I really liked him and you couldn't keep out of it. You had to stick your oar in where it wasn't wanted.'

'Hmph. Did I now?' Brendan looked at the young man like he was considering what Ste had said.

'And you made me think you liked me, with all that stuff on the beach. But you couldn't care less, could ya? You were just doing it for a laugh.'

'Is that what you think of me, Steven?' Brendan's voice held level and there was nothing in his poker face that would have made Ste think otherwise.

Ste was beginning to look less certain of himself but there was still a dark smear of distain in his eyes.

'And even now you can't just leave it, can you?'

'You're the one who came in here chasing after me, Steven.'

'Chasing after you? Can you hear yourself?' If Ste had calmed down briefly he was freshly riled and ready for the fight again now.

'And there was me thinking I'd done you a favour,' Brendan countered cooly.

'How'd you figure that one out?'

'You found out what he was really like before you got too involved, didn't you?' Brendan asked the question in a way confirmed the answer was self-evident.

'Yeah and found out what you're really like an'all.'

'Just looking out for you, yeah?' He leaned in and drolled, 'And showed you what you're missing. Like I said, Steven. All man me…' He pulled away and started to walk off towards the office, leaving only whiskey fumes in his wake.

Ste was infuriated to find that the husky tone of Brendan's last comments had left him flushed.

'Did you mean what you said? About going out for a ride?' Ste's comment caught him before he reached the door.

Brendan turned. _That easy? God, I'm even better at this than I thought._

'I always mean what I say, Steven.'

'Then when are you taking me out on that bike of yours?'

Brendan questioned him with his eyes.

'Well, its the least you can do to apologise properly.' Ste justified as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He almost sounded convincing.

Just as Brendan had made to leave, Ste had glimpsed Kevin watching their exchange from down the corridor. He hadn't twigged that Brendan had known Kevin was there all along, nor that Brendan had seen Ste catch sight of Kevin, conveniently just before his change of heart.

'Be here Friday at four.'

The door to the office slammed behind him.

—

'Nicely on time. Punctual. I like that Steven, I like that.'

'Yeah, well, I gotta be on time, what with work and that.' There was a prickliness to the way he spoke.

 _We'll soon fix that, Steven. I know just how to get you nice and relaxed…_

'Here.' Brendan held out a helmet to Ste and then went to slick his own hair back before lifting his helmet over his head. As he did this he realised the younger man was looking at him funny.

'What?'

'I dunno, I guess I just imagined you without that on, you know, your hair blowing in the wind or summat.' He was almost laughing.

 _Good. That wasn't so hard, was it?_

Brendan smirked back.

'What, like James Dean?' He paused at the romantic image. 'I'm brave, Steven, but not down right stupid.'

'Fair enough.'

'I was stupid though, when I was younger.' Brendan had leant in and muttered the comment confidentially, like he was letting Ste into a secret - which he was - albeit an open one. That pretty much summed up Brendan's attitude to his private life, _open secret_.

'Yeah, yeah I was. Reckless.' He paused, enjoying the recollection, a smirk playing over his lips. 'There's nothing like it, alone on the open road, roaring along as the air rushes over you, feeling like you could go anywhere, do anything, with that powerful beast underneath you… That, Steven, is freedom.'

'So what changed?'

 _Having kids. Having something worth living for. Realising I couldn't protect them if I couldn't protect myself._

Brendan shrugged. 'Mate of mind was out on his bike. Had an argument with a lorry. Makes ya think twice.' He spoke the words almost flippantly, like he was talking about whether he took sugar in his coffee. He swept his leg over the rear of the bike and started the engine. It roared and pulsed beneath him. 'What you waiting for, Steven? Let's go!'

Steven rather awkwardly flung his leg over the back of the bike. He was glad Brendan wasn't watching. The last thing he wanted to do was give away the fact that his heart was racing, that this was his first time, that he was scared. His legs were shaking as he grabbed onto Brendan's waist like he had seen them do in the movies. It felt like bolts of electricity were surging off Brendan's body, through Ste's tensed arms and down into the pit of his belly. He tried to force the sensation to stop there. It absolutely did not spread down into his groin. Absolutely not.

 _So fricking awkward_.

But the more he tried not to think about it, the more all he could think about was Brendan's weight between his arms, about squeezing his legs tighter around the bigger man, his legs locked around his hips, thighs pressed together…

'One piece of advice Steven!' Brendan was yelling through his helmet, over the noise of the engine. 'Whatever you do, never look back!'

And before Ste had a change to catch his breath, off they roared.

It took several miles, but eventually Ste began to relax. He leant his head on Brendan's back as he turned to watch the coastline flying by them. They were climbing up along the cliffs, further out from civilisation than Ste had dared venture on the island so far. Brendan handled the bike expertly, even when they wound their way through a series of hairpin bends, the road sandwiched between sheer rock face and a vertical drop onto rocks below. Their bodies leaned and wove rhythmically, held together by the force over the air rushing over them.

So this was what Brendan had meant about freedom. Deafening silence. For once it didn't feel like you against the world but that you were somehow part of the world, part of the air, a particle being catapulted by an unstoppable, vital force.

Ste felt himself tensing again and readjusted. Except now it wasn't out of fear that he was clinging tight to Brendan's body. He felt safe and alive and flooded with adrenaline, all at the same time. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

After what felt like an eternity, Brendan pulled the bike over into a sandy lay-by overlooking the rocks. Seconds later, the roar of the ocean replaced the growl of the engine.

Brendan secured the bike and removed a package from the compartment as he went.

'C'mon,' he gestured, moving towards the scrubland that had opened up between the rocks and the road.

Ste rolled his eyes at Brendan's instinctive bossiness, though try as he might to deny it, he was enthralled and more than a little curious. At that moment, Brendan could have jumped off the cliff top and Ste would have followed him.

Ste was still trying to get his breath back as he made to catch up with Brendan. His legs were unsteady from the time spent on the bike and the ground was uneven underfoot. He nearly skidded on the dusty sand that was loosely covering the rocks beneath his feet as the path wound downwards. Brendan, meanwhile, was bounding on ahead, his feet barely touching the ground.

When Ste finally caught him up, Brendan was standing on a rocky precipice that faced out to sea, shoulders back, breathing deeply as he contemplated the vastness that opened out in front of him.

'Just in time for sunset,' he said, barely turning to face Steven as he heard him approach.

Ste felt the warm breeze blowing in from the sea wash over him.

Brendan dropped down to a seated position on the sandy ground, hugging his knees. He looked around and caught Ste's eye, indicating that the younger man should join him.

When they were settled, Brendan reached into the bag he had brought down with them.

'Drink?' he asked, turning towards Ste.

'You haven't got a bottle of whiskey stashed in there, have you?' Ste smirked.

Brendan glared at him, though without his usual degree malice. It could almost have been mistaken for playfulness.

'Don't drink and drive though, right?' Ste corrected himself.

Brendan grunted as if to say, 'Something like that.'

 _Not when I have a passenger to take care of_.

He pulled out two cokes and handed one to Ste. He cracked open the other can himself, took a noisy slurp, then set it down carefully beside him.

He looked sideways at Ste in that inviting, secretive way that made Ste's heart leap unexpectedly and his breath catch in his throat. When he was sure he had Ste's attention, Brendan pulled his jacket aside to reveal a hip flask in his pocket.

'In case of emergencies,' He explained, grinning.

Ste returned his smile. It started with a small twitch of his upper lip then gently yet firmly curled upwards until it shone with naughtiness through into his eyes.

It was Brendan's turn to feel his stomach lurch in response. It was the first evening in weeks that Brendan hadn't had a drop of booze, so why was he feeling this tipsy?

'Go on then, give us a slurp.' Ste demanded, cheekily.

Brendan's eyes interrogated Steven for a brief moment.

'Well I'm just the passenger, aren't I?' He justified.

Brendan took the hip flask from his jacket again and handed it to Ste. Their finger tips touch for just a split second. Without thinking, the brush of their bodies brought their eyes together and both men broke into a broad smile.

 _I've never seen him smile like that before, like he really means it. Did I do that?_ Ste flushed as thoughts ran through his head uncontrollably. It must have been the booze filtering into his system. Making another man smile was no reason to blush. _But Brendan Brady isn't just another man, is he?_

'It's alright this, isn't it?'

'Mmmm.' Brendan's affirmation was guttural, unmediated.

'This your place?' Ste added, trying to draw Brendan into conversation without seeming to pry.

'Something like that,'

'You get out on the bike a lot?' These were the words that left Ste's lips but that wasn't what he wanted to ask. _How many other men have you brought here?_

'Not really. Not often enough.' _Not often enough to feel human_.

Why had Brendan brought him here? He didn't need to come all this way just to fulfil his part of the bargain. They could have gone around the block a couple of times, down to the harbour and back home to the bar for a drink. That was all Ste was expecting. So this - this felt like something else. If Ste had been brought out here by anyone other than Brendan Brady it would have seemed like a date. And a corny one at that. But Brendan's attention was too engrossed elsewhere for it to seem that way, and he was too spontaneous in his manner for any of it to feel contrived, even with the small bag of carefully considered supplies he had brought with him.

'You always ridden bikes?'

'Yeah, pretty much.' Brendan paused. Ste felt like there was more that Brendan wanted to say but Ste was used to him never finishing these unspoken sentences out loud. But this evening he was in a different mood. He had softened like the fading sun on the horizon and seemed relaxed enough to let Ste into his confidence.

'First time I ever rode a bike I was 14. Belonged to a mate of mine's Da. We took the keys when he was passed out from boozing and went for a ride along the harbour. Totalled it. Lucky we didn't kill ourselves in the process. Since then I never have been able to get the taste of speed and petrol out my mouth.'

'What happened? I mean, when his dad found out?'

'Nothing. He'd drunk himself into such a state that he thought he'd done it himself.'

Both men chuckled imagining the scene.

 _Didn't stop my Da beating seven shades of shite out of me anyway though._

'How was your first time?' Brendan asked. 'Did I go easy on you?'

Ste blushed crimson and barely managed a stutter his response. 'Uh, yeah, urm, I mean good. Dead exciting actually,' Ste corrected himself as his smile broke through. 'I was well scared at first but I just held on as tight as I could, especially when we went round some of them corners.'

'You're telling me!' Brendan exclaimed. I'm going to have bruises the shape of your fingers on my ribs for weeks.'

 _How did Brendan manage to make that sound so seductive? It wasn't like they were talking about sex bruises, was it?_ Ste did his best to compose himself but it already felt like a losing battle.

'Oi, I wasn't that bad!'

'Don't worry Steven. I can take it. You surprised me with your strength, that's all. Little chicken arms of yours,' Brendan felt himself giving into the pull drawing him to the other man's body as he reached across to nip Ste's arms with his fingers. He just couldn't resist.

'Get off!' Ste playfully pushed Brendan's arms off, accidentally knocking his can of coke over, sending it clattering down the rocks below them. They giggled like they a pair of tipsy teenagers.

They were sitting face to face now after their playful altercation, little more than a hair's breadth apart. _This is when it happens. This is when he kisses me._ Ste's eyelids flickered shut as his body throbbed warm with anticipation. But before relief came, he felt the smallest of touches - not Brendan's - gently brush against his face.

'What was that?'

A fat drop of rain had landed in the negligible space between them and a second had come to rest on Ste's eyelashes, making him draw back in surprise.

'It's starting to rain, Steven,' Brendan whispered. 'C'mon. Let's get outta here.' Brendan stood up and took Ste by the hand, helping to ease him to his feet. He didn't let go as he led him not back up to the road and the bike as Ste had expected, but down towards a cove and a tiny crescent of hidden beach beneath them.

Their fingers stayed intertwined as they clambered across the rocks that stood between the cliffs and the beach. Ste almost gasped with delight when Brendan, a pace ahead of him, ducked into cave. The roof barely cleared their heads when the two men were stood up and it sloped down to sit back into the rock in a way that reminded Ste of a tent he had slept in when he went on a camping holiday to Blackpool as a kid. The floor was smooth rocks covered in a thick layer sand.

Brendan opened the bag he had carried down with them and pulled out a picnic blanket, spreading it out before their feet. When Brendan sat down, Ste saw that there was a rock directly behind where he put the blanket, perfectly positioned to act like a seat back. Ste was impressed.

'Hungry?' Brendan put his hand back into the bag and pulled out a foil-wrapped package. The familiar smell of bacon wafted up towards Ste's nostrils as he dropped to the ground.

Brendan tore hungrily into a slice of the meat and held out the other half for Ste to take.

Ste took the offering. For a moment he was speechless. Until a memory struck him.

'I thought you didn't share food?'

Brendan choked back a laugh from behind a bite of what was now a full-blown bacon sandwich. _Cheeky fucker. I'd share everything I've got with you, if only you knew it._

'Here. There's plenty to go around.' He passed a second filled roll over to Ste. It was still warm.

Ste looked across to Brendan and breathed an almost inaudible laugh. The man was ridiculous, incredible.

'You've got crumbs in your moustache,' he said.

'Hmm..' Brendan turned to him, not sounding surprised. 'Where?' He held his jaw towards Steven, inviting his touch.

Ste brushed his thumb across Brendan's upper lip, clearing the crumbs. Such an intimate gesture, but it felt so natural. He held Ste's eye contact long enough to make the young man's stomach knot, before turning back to his sandwich with a smile.

Ste could hardly believe it, wouldn't have believed even 24 hours ago that this was the same Brendan Brady he knew, tormentor of anyone who dared step over the threshold of his bar (and many more who didn't dare), even after the care he had shown Ste at the hospital, even after the tender passion the Irishman had displayed as they had caressed so ardently on the beach. Ste tried his best to push down the recollection of the passionate moment they had shared as his body began to thrum at the memory. A boner was the last thing he needed right now. Wouldn't that be the perfect way to ruin the moment?

The rain was drumming down heavily outside them now, splashing onto the rocks and the water as the tide gradually moved back out to sea. The last glimpse of the sun was still burning red on the horizon. Despite the rain, from where the two man sat together the sky looked cloudless.

Brendan reached into his pocket and took out his hip flask. 'Might as well get settled in.' He leant back on the rock and chugged back some of the liquid, then passed the drink over to Ste, who took a bigger swig than he intended and chased the unfamiliar burn down with a slight cough and another bite of his sandwich.

Silence drew out between them against the setting sun, warmer and brimming with more emotion than anything they might have said in words could have done. Before his brain could stop him, Ste found that he had leant his head on Brendan's shoulder, surrendering the weight to the firmness of the body beneath. As soon as he became conscious of what he had done, Ste's heart starting thudding heavily in his chest but he was too self-conscious to move away again. Fear, adrenaline, whiskey, desire… His stomach contorted as Brendan reached to put his arm around Ste's shoulder and pull him in closer.

 _This is freedom_.

Neither man could have said how long they sat like that. An almost full moon had risen and was beaming its light across the water. Ste was surprised that despite being in a cave after the sun had gone down, it didn't seem that dark and the air wasn't even slightly cold. The warmth coming off the man sitting next to him was all he needed.

Neither man cared to mention that it had long-since stopped raining.

Brendan felt Ste move slightly against him, repositioning himself to get comfortable.

 _Downside of that skinny backside, not much cushioning. Time to move into another position. It's now or never, Brady. He came chasing after you, remember. And you've already had him writhing beneath you practically begging for you to take him home to bed. So what are you waiting for?_

Brendan took another deep slug of from his flask and, tucking it away, he sighed. He turned his head slightly towards the younger man who moved his cheek and looked up at him through those raven lashes. All thoughts in Brendan's mind were silenced. His body took over as he leant down and pressed his lips onto Steven's with a feathery light touch. Ste let out the softest of moans and gently opened his mouth, pulling Brendan in, inhaling the scent of the pheromones radiating from him on a tide of body heat, tasting the taint of the whiskey on his lips, knowing that was what Brendan would be tasting on him, too.

There was no doubt from how they kissed that Ste wanted this every bit as much as Brendan did. And Brendan wasn't sure he could have stopped now, even if he had wanted to try.

With an astounding flicker of mental coherence, Brendan reached to his side and deftly planted the picnic bag on the spot where Steven's head came to rest as Brendan pressed him to the ground with his body weight. Their groins ground together as their kisses grew desperate. Ste's fingers tugged at Brendan's hair as the older man pushed his hand up and under Ste's thin t-shirt and pressed the flat of his hand over the taught skin he found there, tracing a path first up to his nipples, then oh so slowing dragging his fingertips down towards Ste's waistband where he teasingly flicked at the buttons of Ste's jeans.

'Is this what you want?' Brendan taunted, his voice soft and hoarse in Steven's ear.

'Yes.. oh god… Brendan…'

 _All in good time Steven. Let's have a little more fun with you first…_

'Is this what you want Steven? My hand stroking your dick, tugging you off until your balls go tight and you cover my hand in your cum. Is that what you want? Tell me it is. And make sure you say please…'

But Ste could only grunt his reply.

Brendan felt his own balls ready and tighten up towards his body at the sight and sound of the boy beneath him, at the vision his own words conjured up.

 _I want you to come in my hand. I've dreamed of your cum, Steven, of taking you like this, making you writhe against my body helpless for me. And this is just for starters._

Ste's cries echoed against the walls of the cave surrounding them as Brendan stroked his dick, slowly at first, up and down, then increasing the urgency and intensity of his movement as Ste's brow contorted and his mouth locked open around the shape of his moans. He cried out as the wave of his orgasm shuddered over him, his cum splashing liberally across his own chest and covering Brendan's fingers, just as the older man had urged him to do. He was breathing heavily as he opened his eyes again and Brendan felt a shudder rush over the man in his arms. He kissed his cheek gently and their noses brushed against each other before their lips met once again.

Brendan pulled away and held Ste's eye as he licked his fingers clean, enjoying the taste of Ste's come as though it were he was cleaning the bowl of the most delicious cake mixture he had ever tasted.

'Seems I've worked up an appetite,' Brendan growled, swooping in for a deep and hungry kiss.

'Your turn,' Ste whispered sultrily when Brendan had finished, still slightly breathless.

Brendan gazed down at him, the outline of his tousled hair thick and dark in the moonlight.

 _God am I going to enjoy this._

Brendan murmured incomprehensibly as Ste pushed back up against him so that they both lay on their sides.

'Take me in your mouth,' Brendan urged, barely audibly into Ste's ear. I shiver shot through him at the sound of his own words.

Brendan rolled onto his back, inviting Ste's touch. Ste didn't hesitate. He lifted Brendan's shirt and began working his way down the Irishman's firm belly with his lips. His chin touched against Brendan's erection as his tongue tickled his belly button and trailed down towards the hotly anticipated destination. The pressure Brendan was putting on the back of Ste's head told him he was doing the perfect job of building Brendan towards the reaction they had both been fantasising about for so long.

When Ste undid Brendan's trousers, his dick barely touched the air for a moment before Ste had peeled back the foreskin and placed the tip of it between his lips as he flicked it with his tongue. The faintest grin of pleasure accompanied with a guttural sigh escaped from Brendan's lips as he threw his head back, followed by a long groan as Ste's tongue moved to the base of his shaft and ran the flat of his tongue up the full length of Brendan's dick, before clamping his mouth around it and taking its entirety into his mouth. He held it there for a brief second while he looked up at Brendan's face, taking in the magnificence of his reaction, his total surrender to Ste's tongue. He wanted to beam with pride and arousal when he saw Brendan staring back down at him, his face overtaken with lust. But Ste was too focused on his goal to be distracted for long. He sucked Brendan's dick hard and slow at first, firmly grasping the flesh between his lips. Brendan's hand ran his fingers through Ste's hair as he pressed him down in time with the thrust of his own hips, his movements finding sync with Ste's building pace. He held Steven's head in place as his orgasm grunted through him, his hips lifting from the ground beneath to capture every millimetre of Ste's moist warmth as his cum spurted into the young man's mouth.

When Ste moved away he looked up at Brendan with the dirtiest grin of satisfaction breaking on his lips that Brendan had ever seen - though he could barely focus on what he was seeing, that had been so intense he was seeing stars.

 _Who the hell says fantasy is better than reality?_

It was as though the pressure of all those evenings spent on his laptop creaming over a second-rate stand-in for Steven had finally been released, though Brendan knew it wouldn't be long before the desire would begin burning in the pit of his stomach and deep in his groin once again. If he had been a little bit obsessed with guy before, he was well and truly addicted to him now after that taster - not that he was in any post-fuck state to care.

Ste moved himself back up Brendan's body and hesitantly leant in towards his mouth for a kiss, unsure whether Brendan would want to kiss Ste's soiled mouth. The force with which Brendan pulled Ste's lips back to his own left no room for doubt.

The kiss they shared confirmed that neither man was sated. But for now, at least, that would have to wait. Brendan's eyelids were starting to feel heavy and they weren't in any rush now that they had settled in for the night.

'C'me here.' Brendan guided Ste around so he sat between Brendan's knees, facing out over the beach, his head leaning back on Brendan's chest. When Brendan leant forward and pressed his lips to Ste's temples, the younger man could have been forgiven for thinking that he had died and gone to heaven.

'Try and get some sleep,' Brendan whispered, barely taking his lips away from Steven's skin as he murmured.

Ste nestled in closer in response. He wanted to sleep and knew it would come soon. But he wanted to sit here with his eyes open for as long as he could, basking in every last moment.

Before long, Ste could feel Brendan's chest heaving rhythmically beneath him, lulling him to sleep along with the sound of waves washing gently in the near-distance.

—

'Am I dreaming?' Ste whispered softly as he felt Brendan's lips kissing him back to consciousness.

His eyes were stinging and his mouth felt dry but it was a small price to pay for the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach and the press of the body embracing him.

The sky beyond them was deeply coloured with the rising sun.

'Never woken up on the sand at sunrise in the arms of an Irishman before, Steven?' He pressed the words onto Ste's cheek as he wrapped his arms tighter around him. 'You haven't lived.'

Ste knew he was only joking, but the words rang truer than Brendan had meant them. Despite all the ups and downs of his twenty-odd years on this planet, last night with Brendan had made Ste feel that he really hadn't lived until then. It was the most intimate and romantic evening he had ever experienced, no competition. He was grateful that he wasn't facing Brendan as he was sure the grin on his face was nothing short of idiotic.

'C'mon, help me up here Steven. Old man here needs some breakfast.' The two men clambered to their feet, Brendan more stiffly than Ste, after bearing the brunt of the rock behind them all night. But god, had it been worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone! Thanks once again for all your support for the story, I really appreciate it! Just a short chapter this time, but I wanted to make sure that there was something fresh for you all to read. It might be a little while before I post again as I'm manic with work and then have a holiday coming up (yay!), but I'll do my best not to leave it too long. Enjoy :) x**

 **Chapter 4**

'Whiskey doesn't taste the same out of a glass in the bar. Wanna come over and give me a taste of something sweeter?' Brendan grinned as he tapped out the text. He wasn't surprised when a response flashed up, merely seconds later.

'Sorry, can't tonight. Text you soon.'

That was not the response he had been expecting.

Ste and Brendan's parting that morning had been full of promise. Brendan had held Ste's hand as they had walked back up to the road from their secluded hideout. Brendan had feigned tiredness near the spot where they had stopped for a drink the night before, just long enough to wrong-foot Ste and pull him into an embrace so intense it was almost suffocating.

Getting back onto the bike together had felt natural and easy. Brendan had taken a different route home and they had stopped in a local cafe by the side of the road for breakfast on the way. He was hungry and he wasn't ready to surrender Steven back to normal life just yet. Just a little while longer, that's all he asked.

They had laughed and flirted and played footsie under the table as they ate their food and sipped on the strong local coffee. They could have sat there all day, joking and talking and teasing each other, except for the fact that Ste had suddenly realised the time and that he had to be heading to the airport in less than an hour for his weekly drop-off and pick-up run.

Brendan had raced back to town in double-quick time. The sooner he got them there, the longer they would have to say goodbye. When they had arrived, Brendan had pressed Ste up against the wall of his apartment building and they had kissed and petted like teenagers with nowhere private to go.

It was only the persistent buzzing of Ste's phone reminding him just how late he was that eventually managed to separate them.

Brendan had immediately gone home for a shower and to unloaded his balls under the hot stream as he fantasised about what he would be doing to Steven later that night, whether the boy knew it yet or not.

Except now he wouldn't be doing that after all, as Steven had fobbed him off. And how Brendan hated being fobbed off. Especially when it made no sense to him as to why.

Was Ste worried about coming on too strong?

 _Bit late for that, Steven_.

Brendan recalled how Ste had curled his lip and moaned beneath him on the sand, how he had looked on in awe as Brendan had devoured his come from his fingers after he had jacked him off into his hand.

Much as he hated the thought of not getting what he wanted, Brendan resolved to let the young man simmer. That approach had worked before after the Sean and Noah incident, and he was certain it would work again. Besides, it was Saturday night now, so that meant he only had to hold out until Tuesday at the latest, when Steven would be back through for his weekly bar crawl.

But the waiting was more tortuous than Brendan had anticipated. With the help of enough alcohol to knock out an elephant and his reliable selection of porn clips saved to the favourites tab of his computer, Tuesday rolled around eventually.

Brendan knew what time the group usually came in, so he decided to wait it out in the office that bit longer and leave Steven to sweat in the bar where he would inevitably be keeping an eye out for the Irishman.

Brendan's confidence in his own plan meant that he was even more taken aback when he emerged into the barrage of noise and strobe lighting to find no sign of Ste. He saw the usual drinks vouchers were being handed over at the tills, so the group must have been there. Eventually, he caught up to a figure in the familiar red shirt of the holiday company - but it wasn't the man he was after.

'Douggie-boy! Where's Steven tonight?'

'He's not here.' Doug sneered and seemed to take great pleasure in winding Brendan up.

'Oh really? Thanks for the newsflash. So where is he then, Douglas?'

 _You do not want to try my patience, young Douggie. Especially where my dick's involved._

'Home. He's back in England.'

'Home?' Brendan almost stuttered over the word like he didn't know what it meant. How had this little American chimp managed to stump him?

'Yeah you heard, Brendan.'

'What's he doing there? I mean, when's he coming back?'

'He's gone to see his kids. And I would say, why don't you ask him yourself but I'd prefer it if you left him alone.' Doug didn't wait for a response. The uncharacteristic show of surprise on Brendan's face was enough of a victory. He didn't need to wait around and trade any more insults. When he reached the other side of the dance floor he turned to see Brendan slam the door to the office behind him and he could have sworn he heard a roar and the sound of glass shattering, even over the heavy thud of the music.

Once the red mist had cleared, Brendan reached down into his desk drawer and picked out a fresh bottle to replace the near-empty one that was now littering the office in shards. He didn't bother going to get a fresh glass to replace the one he had smashed: he drank straight from the bottle, practically pouring the amber liquid down his throat.

 _Why didn't he tell me he was going?_ _Why didn't he tell me had kids? And that fucking Yank, coming into my bar, telling me about Steven, taking so much fucking delight in telling me about my Steven. And warning me off? How fucking dare he._

With his vision clouded by the disappeared half-bottle of neat spirits he had easily tucked away, Brendan took out his phone and typed 'Call me, Steven. As soon as you get this.' He hit send.

 _Probably regret that in the morning, but who cares._

He proceeded to wash away that thought with most of what was left in the bottle, leaving him slumped over the desk until dawn.

—

The week passed in a blur of whiskey and hangovers.

It hadn't taken Brendan much of his adult life to come to terms with the hair of the dog remedy. Although, of course, Brendan Brady never did things by halves, so where a curative tipple stopped and a fresh bender began was anyone's guess. But that was normal, wasn't it? In the tough part of Dublin he was from it wasn't called alcoholism: it was called necessity.

He tried to ignore the nagging feeling in his gut that it had been a whole week now since he had seen or heard from Steven. He tried his best to focus on the drinks orders for the week ahead on the sheet of paper in front of him. He quickly scanned down past the usual numbers, but when he came to the whiskey column he hastily scribbled out the figure and doubled it. What was the point in owning your own bar if there weren't any perks of the job?

Just as he reached the final lines of the sheet, the door to his office was flung open.

'Brendan mate.' It was Kevin. Topless Kevin.

Brendan couldn't help but let his eyes roam the young guy's torso despite the snarl forming on his own lips.

'I think the foam machine's bust,' he said, by way of explanation for his semi-naked appearance in Brendan's doorway.

 _Convenient, Kevin. How very convenient._

'Ah, the foam machine,' Brendan's tone was entirely unreadable. He could see Kevin flinch with uncertainty and perhaps a little self-consciousness. 'Remind me how that's my problem, Kevin? You know where the maintenance man's number is. And the spare work shirts.' He reached down into his drawer to pull out a fresh bottle and glass. 'And close the door on your way out.'

It was the night of the bloody foam party. Another one of Chez's genius ideas. Except unlike the weekly bar crawl, this one didn't come with the bonus of Brendan's favourite distraction: Steven.

He unscrewed the cap on the bottle but before he poured the drink, he noticed that the clink of the door he had been waiting for to signal Kevin's exit hadn't happened. The young man was still standing in his office. As he looked up, Kevin was moving over to the desk.

'Can I be honest with you?' He started, nervily.

'Always.'

'You can do better.'

'Than this?' Brendan glanced around the room. 'It is what it is,' he shrugged.

'No, I'm not talking about the club.' Kevin's eyes rested briefly on the whiskey glass before returning to meet Brendan's. 'I'm talking about Ste.'

Brendan didn't answer.

'No offence, but I don't know what you see in him,' the young blond continued.

Brendan shrugged and stalked slowly around his desk so that he was standing in front of Kevin. He could almost feel the anticipation bubbling off the guy. He wasn't prepared for what came next.

Brendan grabbed at his shoulders and pushed him roughly up against the wall. He was light as a feather. Amid the fear in the boy's eyes he was sure he could read the remnants of hope burning alongside the thrill it had given him, having Brendan handle him like that.

'Why is it, when someone says _no offence_ they usually follow it up with something really offensive? Why is that? Why, why, why?' He was almost whispering now into the boy's ear.

Just as Brendan's play was reaching it's climax, his head snapped round to the doorway at the sound of a noise.

It was the last person he had expected to see. It was Steven, stock still, mouth agape at the scene he had just discovered.

'Steven.' Brendan swallowed hard but still barely managed to get the words out before Ste had turned on his heel, shaking his head and a look of disgust on his face.

When it came to finishing Kevin off, Brendan had no problem. He grabbed him by the throat.

'If you make another craic about Steven again, I will end you. Do you understand?' But there was no time to wait for Kevin's croaked answer. Brendan had shot off after Steven.

'Steven! Steven! Hey, just slow down will ya?' Brendan was chasing through early drinkers and meandering groups on their way back from the beach, trying to catch up to the determinedly striding figure ahead of him.

'Just leave it, Brendan,' he shot, when Brendan finally caught him up and tried to pull him around by the shoulder.

'You're not mad about that are you?' In his surprise and confusion, Brendan couldn't even work out what Ste was so angry about. He'd been the one trying to get in touch. He'd been the one ignored, agonising, missing Steven, left in the dark. So how was this his fault? He could only presume that it was down to the temper he had been displaying when Ste had walked in.

'I couldn't help it,' he protested. He knew the words sounded hollow and that there was never an excuse for violence but they were all that he could manage. Why was Steven the only person that left him struggling to speak?

'I haven't even been gone a week!' Ste sounded incredulous and accusatory at the same time.

'Why didn't you tell me you were going?'

'Didn't realise I had to run my travel plans past you, like you were border control or sommat.'

'I just thought you woulda said something. Let me know that you weren't going to be around for a bit. Or at least let me know that you were ok after..' He faltered. 'But you didn't even call me back…' Brendan hoped that Ste could hear the sincerity but not the desperation in his tone.

'Well I forgot to take my phone, didn't I. I was so worried about Lucas that I left it at here like a right idiot. And after everything the other night, I didn't think you'd use it as an excuse to bin me. Though I can see you have.'

Suddenly it fell into place for Brendan. Ste had thought that he had had Kevin up against the wall, shirtless, in a fit of passion.

'You talking about that?' He threw his arm back in the direction of the bar. 'That…that was nothing Steven, you gotta believe me. He just got his shirt wet and…'

God how much Brendan wanted to grab him and kiss him and shut him up, tell him what an idiot he was being. How much he cares about him, Steven Hay. How much he's missed him, can't wait to get him into a proper bed and show him how much he's missed him. But he didn't get the chance.

'Save it Brendan.'

Steven had turned and gone.

No looking back.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**

 **It's taken bit longer that I would have liked to get this out to you all - mostly because a) I kept getting distracted read Stendan fics rather than writing and b) when I did start writing I kept getting distracted by writing too much naughtiness between the boys (hang on, is that even possible?). So, here it is, revised, ever so slightly censored, and hopefully with a little more by the way of plot than in the original draft! Hope you enjoy, would LOVE to hear your feedback WB X**

 **(also hope there aren't too many typos - was rushing to get it up!)**

 **Chapter 5**

Brendan was too busy juggling drinks orders even to notice when Ste and his group came in.

Quite why all his bar staff had chosen that same particular night to call in sick - hungover, lazy, useless - whatever they wanted to call it, was irrelevant. Maybe it was karma or the universe's way of sticking its middle finger up at him once again, but at least it was one way of keeping his mind off Steven. Or the gaping lack of Steven in his life.

Brendan hadn't even looked around when he noticed a familiar scent and a presence next to him. He was too busy haphazardly splashing tequila into a line of plastic shot glasses and trying to calm the baying crowd that was growing restless at the bar for his brain to register what was happening. That was until he had swung round towards the till and was stopped dead in his tracks by the figure of Steven standing next to him facing out across the bar ready to serve.

'What can I get for ya, love?' He had a smile on his face as he took the order, half-flirtatious, charming the customers, clearly not for Brendan's benefit. Brendan recognised it from the nights he had spent watching him in the strip club; how if he watched for long enough sometimes it would finally spread into the corners of his eyes, turn into a real, beaming smile if a customer said something amusing or a colleague drew it out of him.

It made Brendan feel exactly the same standing here now as watching him had done all those months ago: angry, wistful, desperate to bend the boy over the bar and fuck him senseless right there and then, teach him to keep that smile for him, Brendan Brady, him and only him.

But instead he shouted above the music:

'What are you doing Steven?'

'What does it look like I'm doing?' Ste didn't look around to face him. He just continued about his bar-keeping business like he belonged there, as though there was nothing unusual going on, nothing to be said or explained. 'But don't get any ideas, I'm not doing this for you, right? I'm doing it for all them. For their night. And you got me out of trouble to other week so now it's my turn. But after this we're quits.'

'No such things as quits, Steven.'

'Is this a bar or a bloody mothers' meeting?' A red-faced guy in polo shirt had slammed his hand firmly on the bar and was shouting in their direction.

Brendan was up in his face in a flash, grabbing him at the throat and bearing his teeth. But the guy didn't break eye contact, as though he was ready for an all-out brawl.

'Sorry about him.' Ste had slipped in alongside Brendan and was using a firm hand against the Irishman's stomach to draw him away. 'He isn't getting any at the moment, makes him rowdy. This one's on the house.' Ste gave the guy his best, softest smile and slid a bottle of beer across the bar as a peace offering.

After releasing the guy's shirt and giving him one last glare, Brendan could only look on incredulously at Ste standing beside him: he had gone back to finishing his previous order as if nothing had happened. But Brendan could still feel the fire in his belly, the adrenaline in his veins and the exact spot burning beneath his skin where Steven's hand had pressed firmly against his body.

They went back to work in silence, and before long, Ste's efficiency and charm had the bar back in something close to order. Doug had taken the tour group onto their next bar and many of customers had cleared out to one of the big club nights so it almost passed for quiet.

Brendan took the opportunity to lean against the counter and appreciate the form of boy working on around him. Before long though, he found himself in the way as Ste reached around to put some empties into a crate and was forced to graze against him, but Brendan didn't care. He was transfixed by the sight of the man, real in flesh and blood, the man who he had been trying to imagine into being for longer now than he cared to remember.

'Your hands are wasted on those bottles, Steven.' Brendan was drawling now, Ste's ear was close enough for him to purr rather than have to shout. As the night had worn on, Brendan was by now increasingly fuelled by alcohol and unable to conceal his lust.

Ste ignored him, just carried on with what he was doing.

'Drink?' Brendan asked, as he reached for the bottle next to him to refill his glass.

'Never touching a drink in here again, am I?' There was almost a laugh in his voice as though he was unable to stop himself playing Brendan's game, but then he added bitterly, 'I don't know where it's been, do I?'

'And who exactly saved you from that little incident?' He could see Ste re-calculating. 'Thought so. he pushed a glass along the bar towards him. 'Get that down your neck and stop complaining.'

Ste eyed the glass for a moment, before pulling it to his lips and downing it in one long gulp. He slammed the tumbler back onto the top of the bar.

'Like I said earlier, we're even now. You looked out for me that one time and you screwed me over. So that makes it quits. And I've got work to catch up on, so that means you can leave me alone. Now and next week and the week after that.' And then he added as if to soften the force of his previous words, 'So no hard feelings.' And he turned as though he was about to leave.

'The problem is, Steven,' the delicious slur of Brendan's words stopped Ste in his tracks. He didn't know what the Irishman was about to say - he never did - but he knew that tone and the involuntary effect it always had on him. And surely Brendan knew it too, he must remember how his words had squeezed his climax from inside of him, that night they had spent together under the stars.

'When it comes to you,' Brendan continued, 'I've got one particularly hard feeling.' He dropped his hand to his own crotch and squeezed. He hadn't meant to come on that strong but god he couldn't help it. And past experience told him that the kid wasn't exactly going to mind, however much he liked to pretend otherwise.

'Brendan!' He flicked the tea towel from his shoulder against Brendan's arm in exasperation. 'Can't you give it a rest for just one minute? I'm trying to be serious here.'

How was Brendan meant to resist when Ste looked at him like? _Does he have any idea what he does to me when looks at me with those eyes?_

'Alright then, young Steven.' Brendan couldn't help but give his own dick one last squeeze before he sighed heavily. 'What is quite so pressing?' His words were still laced with innuendo.

'Brendan!' This time Ste pressed his palm hard into Brendan's chest, his face torn between irritation and breaking into an uncontrollable grin. The boy seemed determined not to admit how much he was enjoying this.

Brendan grasped Ste's hand between both his own.

'Ok, you got me. I'm listening.' He cocked his head to one side and held Ste's gaze as he spoke.

Ste took a minute to find any words at all. He'd suddenly forgotten what had been so urgent.

'What I mean is…' A blush crept over his cheeks and his eyes became fixated on a particularly fascinating spot on the floor. 'What I mean is, we don't really know each other, do we?'

'Oh I'd say we know each other pretty intimately by now, Steven.' _Inside and out._ Brendan could practically still taste the boy. He licked his lips at the memory.

'Brendan! I don't mean like that, do I?' He sounded properly outraged now. 'I don't just sleep with any man that shows me a bit of interest. I wanna know who I'm sleeping with… you know…be properly intimate with them…' His words were growing quieter and beginning to trail off.

'And when I saw you with Kevin,' he spat the name out. 'I just thought you'd moved on already, that you didn't … And I know it sounds silly, right. Cos that's the stereotype, innit? That gay guys are just after one thing, that they can't have feelings or treat sex like it's special. But I just thought…'

'Hey, hey, Steven..' Brendan went to cup Ste's cheek, a warm wave of tenderness rising within him at the vulnerability on display before him. 'You're gunna have to learn how to trust me, yeah?'

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fly off on one. Just hurt my pride a bit, I guess…' He looked up pensively into Brendan's eyes. 'So what can I do to make it up to you?' He asked, as though a thought had just come to him. His voice had become low with just the faintest hint of dirty.

Not even Brendan could work out the magic by which he had managed to convince Steven that he was in the wrong but far be it from him to complain. This was all starting to come together nicely.

Ste turned, poured himself a large measure of liquor which he promptly downed, and stalked around the bar to the nearest table. He pulled out one of the chairs into the middle of the floor, eyed Brendan and patted the seat seductively.

It appeared as if Ste already knew the answer to his own question.

 _Please tell he's not about to do what I think he is. Please tell me he is…_

'See, I learnt a few things in that bar when I first got here.'

'Life skills?' Brendan's voice was gruff, little more than a rasping whisper.

'Yeah, life skills. How to say sorry properly.'

 _How to torture a man and make him come in his pants, more like._

Brendan kept his gaze on Steven like he was prey as he made his way round to where Ste was waiting for him, though he couldn't shake the thought that he was lamb on its way to slaughter.

Once Brendan had done as he had been told and sat down, Ste circled the chair a couple of times, as lithe on his feet as a dancer. As he walked, he tortuously unbutton his trousers and let the zip drop down barely an inch, just so a tantalising glimpse of boxer and trace of body hair were visible.

Ste came even closer to the older man, his crotch teasing towards Brendan's mouth as he straddled Brendan's lap, barely touching, his eyes sultry and his lips even poutier in real life than Brendan had imagined all those times when he had fantasised about them around his dick as he lay in bed at night or stroked himself to climax in the shower. His erection had gone from present and ready for action to unbearable and threatening to break through the fabric of his trousers at any moment. It looked like Ste was just as ready for him, the outline of his cock stiff beneath the thin fabric of his work trousers. Brendan willed a glimpse of the tip of his prize to peep up through the waistband of his boxers.

Brendan was forced to take a couple of deep breaths to steady himself as Ste began grinding his hips and moving slowly above him in a practised gyration. It was all he could do to stop himself standing up flipping the boy over and taking his pleasure there and and then, he was so desperate he would have taken the boy and bent him over the bar without a second thought.

But much as he hated to admit it, loved to think of himself as the one in control, there had to be a masochistic streak in his bones somewhere as the boy's masterful display was sending him into another dimension.

Ste had grabbed the back of the chair for more control and threw his head back as he slowly bounced up and down in the air above Brendan's lap as though he was riding him, flicking his hips towards Brendan as he moved.

Once or twice Ste's body grazed gently against the solid bulge in Brendan's pants as he continued to ride his lap. Ste responded to each incidental contact between their heated bodies by throwing his head back further, eyes closed, a breathy moan pulling his lips into a pouting sigh of pleasure that Brendan would have bitten off him if he had been able to move.

But the truth was he didn't trust himself. He was turned on beyond anything he had ever experienced, at least while fully clothed, and he really did think that one touch of their groins, one kiss from those lips he had been so desperately craving, one more of those dirty little groans from Steven's lips and he would literally shoot his load. And what a waste that would be. He was enjoying this far too much.

So instead he sat rigidly, letting Steven take his pleasure, putting on this private show just for him.

He nearly fell off the chair when Steven stood up like a rabbit in the headlights at the sound of someone coming in through the closed front door into the bar.

Brendan turned, horror taking over his face as he realised who the figure that had just entered was.

'Eileen?!'

'Wha..?' Ste's open-mouthed half-question and look of shocked horror was mirrored by the woman who had just come in.

'Brendan!' Her jaw had dropped. 'What on earth..?'

'Eileen, I didn't… Wha… What are you doing here?'

'Who's she?' Ste spat the words, alarm and embarrassment sending him onto the offensive. He didn't know what was going on but he immediately had the feeling he wasn't going to like it.

' _She_ is his wife,' Eileen replied, her voice dripping with distain.

'Ex wife, Eileen, ex-wife!'

'You're unbelievable, Brendan Brady.' Ste was shaking his head, his arms now wrapped protectively around himself as though he been caught naked as well as in the middle of a lap dance.

'And let me guess. You're yet another one in the long line of people he's used for his own advantage then deceived and let down?'

Brendan's cheeks were flushed with shame, his eyes downcast, unable to meet Ste's horrified gaze or Eileen's look of utter disgust.

'Where are the boys?' It was all he could manage. She could say what she liked about him as a man but his sons were always at the front of his mind.

'Your children are back in the hotel, thank god. Otherwise they would have seen this…' She swept her arms at the scene in front of her.

'Your kids? You fucking hypocrite!'

'Steven, please, just let me explain…' He tried to grab the boy's arm as he strode across the empty room towards the door.

'How dare you have a go at me for leaving to look after me own kids and then lecture me on trust when you were keeping all this from me? And there was me try'na apologise to you! And you just stood there and let me!'

'How was I meant to stop you when you were…'

But as was so quickly becoming a habit with the two of them, Brendan's protests were lost on the night air, trailing behind as Ste stormed off into the darkness.

'Another one of your boys to add to the list. Congratulations Brendan.'

'Don't you dare say a word about him.' Brendan was struggling to keep it together. All those years of marriage and Eileen knew exactly how to push his buttons. 'And nice as this social call is, what exactly are you doing here, Eileen?'

'It's half-term, remember? And your kids actually wanted to see you. They haven't worked out what a lying, cheating, waste of space you are quite yet, but give them time.'

Half-term, of course it was. Brendan groaned inwardly. He did remember hearing some vague idea about a trip to see him during the break from school, but he had no idea that it was finalised and clearly hadn't expected his family turning up like this.

'You shoulda given me your flight details, I woulda come and met you at the airport.' The sentence came out like protest. Typical of Eileen to play her cards close to her chest, probably deliberately trying to catch him out or show him up. Some things never change.

'You shoulda asked Brendan. But I can see your mind's been elsewhere.' She chanced a glimpse down towards his trousers and over towards the door Ste had made his hasty exist through, clearly indicating where she thought his mind really was located.

Thank god his erection had died a death on seeing her. It still amazed him that they had managed to have two kids given the effect her presence seemed to have on his libido.

'Come on, let me get you a drink.' For the sake of his boys, not to mention the out-dated tinge of affection for the woman that he couldn't seem to get rid of, he needed to try and salvage the situation.

He poured out two tumblers and slid her one across the bar.

'Whiskey?' She eyed it sceptically, as though adding it to the long list of complaints.

'Never used to bother you before. Or too good for that now, are ye?' He said with a smirk. He knew she would rise to the challenge. She liked to think she was this fancy lady from the right side of town, but he knew where she really came from and the grit that lay beneath the facade. Perhaps that was why he still managed to maintain the sliver of respect he still had for her.

True to form, she knocked it back in one, a glint in her eye. He did the same.

It didn't take long for the alcohol to work its magic and the truth to start coming out.

'There was something else as well Brendan…' She looked nervous. Brendan couldn't tell whether she was scared of saying what she was about to say or worried about his reaction. Experience told him that it was usually the latter.

'Go on.' He topped her glass back up again.

'I don't want you to over-react. We're all fine so there's nothing for you to worry about…'

'That's an ominous opening if ever I heard one.' He didn't like where this was going.

'The house got broken into the other day. They took a few things, not much. Nothing that wasn't insured. Made a bit of a mess is all.'

'Jesus Eileen. You ok? The boys? Were you home at the time?' His mind was suddenly running at a hundred miles an hour.

'I told you Brendan, we're all fine. We were out for the evening.'

'You shoulda called.'

'Brendan.' It sounded like she was his mother when she used his name like that, trying to calm him down. 'You know you would only have worried. We were thinking of coming out to see you anyway so I thought it was better to get on the plane and tell you when we got here.'

He knew there was something else she wasn't saying, that she didn't want him hopping on the next flight home and being around when the police came, threatening them, then running off to play vigilante.

'You still shoulda called, yeah?'

'I know Brendan, I'm sorry. But we're fine, I promise. Except Macca though. That was the weird bit…'

'The kitten? Why?'

'Well, they didn't take much but they…killed the cat.' She grimaced at the words, still trying to get her head around it.

He pulled her into a hug so that she couldn't see the worry turning to angry realisation on his face.

 _Fuck. FUCK._

He should have know. He certainly should have thought better of leaving his family in another country where he wasn't there to protect them. He knew who had done this. Fucking Danny Houston. Sending a message. Telling him he could still get to him, wherever on the planet he ran to.

 _It was like killing a kitten._ Wasn't that what Danny had said when had boasted about killing Vinnie?

But his family were safe with him now, for the time being. Thank god. At least Brendan had a few clear days with them here to work out what the hell he was going to do about this mess.

One thing was for certain, there was no way Eileen could be allowed to find out about what was really going on.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N So here it is, finally! Sorry it's taken quite so long. Combination of laziness, other stuff to do, accidentally watching an ep of the show (haven't seen it for years) that scarred my brain too much to write, and also starting another Stendan story that I can't wait to share with you when it's done! (Hint: the boys will be getting very hot and sweaty ;) )**

 **Thanks everyone still out there for your amazing feedback and your patience with me.. Hope you enjoy the latest instalment WBx**

 **(PS I've updated Ch 5 to get rid of some of the hideous typos - sorry about those!)**

'I told you Brendan, he's not here! Give it a rest already!' Doug's irate, less than dulcet tones rang out over the intercom.

Brendan had been stood outside Ste's apartment for the best part of what felt like hours. It wasn't in his nature to beg or to allow himself to look desperate, but then when it came to Steven, his usual rulebook seemed to go out the window.

'So where is he then, Douglas? Tell me where he is!' But Brendan heard the crackle of the intercom once more followed by a click and knew he had gone.

A woman, in her sixties by the looks of her, opened the downstairs window and stuck her head out. Brendan knew immediately she was a British ex-pat. It still mystified him as to why quite so many people moved all this way just to live with other Brits.

He expected she was about to give him an earful for his vocal display at such an unholy hour so he was surprised when she spoke to him calmly, helpfully.

'You could try that girl's house.' Brendan looked blank. 'You know, that tarty one with the dark hair. The two of them are thick as thieves. Not sure why, to be honest, seeing as she could have any bloke she wants and I'm sure he's _that way inclined_ , you know.' She raised her eyebrows at him as if to convey her meaning, then suddenly eyed Brendan up and down as if to assess whether he was _that way inclined_ too.

Before he had a chance to ask where exactly the _tarty girl_ lived, she had closed the window and re-drawn the curtain. He knew exactly who the woman meant though, and he set off down towards the marina where he thought he'd once seen Mitzeee letting herself into a residential block a couple of blocks back from the water.

He wandered around aimlessly when he got there. As the dawn broke, he realised it was hopeless. His stomach churned at the thought of how little he really knew about his boy, yet how much more everyone else seemed to know about him. Maybe Steven had a point when he'd said as much earlier that night about not knowing each other. But that wasn't Brendan's style, was it? Getting to know someone, _dating._ The thought made him feel clammy.

He found a bench outside the still shut-up shops alongside the waterfront and sat down to think. With all the drama with Ste he hadn't even considered what he was going to say to Eileen when he saw her later. He knew already there would be questions. And he couldn't let her and the kids go home without being sure it was safe for them, but how he did that without raising her suspicions he hadn't yet worked out. She'd known Brendan for long enough that her default position when it came to him was suspicion. And then there was the real problem that he needed to deal with - Danny. It was making his head hurt.

He had people he could call on for a favour, but when it came to his family, he wasn't so sure he could bring himself to trust anyone else. And besides, before he could ask anyone for help - not something that came naturally in the first place - he needed a plan. A watertight one.

By now, a few people had started wandering past along the harbour's edge as the rays of daylight began to rise above the watery horizon. They paid as little attention to Brendan as he did to them. Then all of a sudden, an irregular movement along the street caught his attention.

It was him, of course it was. Brendan's eyes often played tricks on him, seeing the boy where he wasn't. But the lurch in his stomach, the instantaneous recognition of his gait was enough to convince Brendan is only a split second that his instinct was right.

In return, Steven had seen Brendan and had begun to turn away, as if his whole body was groaning at the prospect of encountering the Irishman. But his companion had other ideas.

Just as the busty brunette puffed up her shoulders and was about to barge her way over to where Brendan was sitting, all ready for a fight, he heard a shout from the opposite direction.

'Dadddyyy!'

He was almost suffocated by the mop of soft blonde hair that Paddy had accidentally thrust in his face as he rushed over and threw his arms around his dad, nestling into his chest and knocking the air out of him.

'Hey champ! What are you boys doing here?'

He looked up to see the rather sullen figure of Declan yawning distractedly as he stood next to his mum, who also had something of a sour look on her face.

'Apparently a hotel breakfast isn't good enough for these two. They'll only eat pancakes from the place you took them. Isn't that right boys?'

Declan, like a typical adolescent was refusing to make eye contact and was occupying himself by flicking his fringe out of his eyes, but Paddy answered for them both in an excited voice that melted Brendan's heart.

'Yeah we want pancakes! First morning of holiday so it's tradition!'

God he'd missed these boys.

'Is that right now?' He asked, fondly stroking Paddy's hair.

'Yeah! First and last days of holiday! It's tradition! Pancakes!' And just like that, off Paddy shot, running down the street in the direction of the cafe.

Just as Brendan stood up and turned to follow his family, he caught a strong scent of perfume at just the moment hot breath gusted over his ear.

'This ain't over Brady,' the whisper came threateningly.

Brendan knew a thing or two about feisty women and clearly Mitzeee was not one to be messed with.

—

The easy warmth of a morning spent with his family only served to remind Brendan just what was at stake when it came to his next move with Danny.

He didn't think that Danny would come for them out here - god knows he had had enough chance to do that over the months since Brendan had moved over - but he still took the opportunity to walk Eileen and the boys home. He wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet and it was the perfect chance to reacquaint himself with hotel they had stayed in on the few previous occasions they had been over to visit. He made a careful mental note of the name badges and the faces of all the staff he came across and scoped out the other guests as best he could.

As soon as he had hugged the three of them goodbye and left them safely in their room, Brendan dialled an all-too familiar number. There were some debts he hoped he would never have to call in and this was one of them.

'Time to call in that favour, young Foxy. Our old friend Danny Houston. He needs taking care of. Urgently.'

He hung up the phone. He'd sown the seed and would call back later to see what Joel had come up with. He needed up to date information to form whatever plan they were to put in place.

That was a start on problem number one and it had just gone 10am. _Excellent_. That gave Brendan time to sort out the other issue preying on his mind, and all before elevenses. Despite his sleepless night he was starting to feel like Brendan Brady again. He straightened his collar, ran his fingers over his moustache and strode with renewed swagger over to the biggest of the resort hotels down by the beach. It was the obvious place to find the boy.

What he didn't expect was for a language barrier to stand in his way.

'Come on, you must know him. Yay tall, hair back like that…' he demonstrated with his hand. In this town, mentioning the boy's beautifully tanned skin probably wouldn't help narrow it down for the man on reception who seemed to have no recollection of any rep named Steven. He had to hold himself back from describing the peachy perfection of the boy's arse. It wouldn't have helped matters if the slick local man had've noticed the beauty of Steven's body; any indication that he had even so much as glanced his eyes over the boy's behind and, well, Brendan couldn't be held accountable for his actions.

Brendan redoubled his descriptive efforts, sticking to safe ground, and eventually something seemed to click with the guy.

'Ah Ste! Yes yes Ste. In the office over there.' The man gestured down the corridor adjacent to the lobby.

It wasn't usually in Brendan's nature to knock, but he knew he had to be on his best behaviour if he was going to put his planned apology into action.

'Come in!' A female voice shouted. He hadn't banked on _her_ being there, but he could think on his feet.

When he opened the door, the chill of the air-conditioning hit him first, then he saw that there was a desk pod in the middle of a bland-looking office with only a small window onto an internal light-well. Two heads turned to meet him and as soon as they registered who had come in, Mitzeee had risen from her desk and to her full, somewhat limited height, aided by a super-sized pair of rattan wedges, and was blocking Brendan's path to Ste. She danced in front of him, deliberately blocking Brendan's view.

'You've got some nerve showing up here.' She eyed him through her long, dark lashes like a cat readying itself to pounce.

'It's alright Mitz.' Ste was getting to his feet. 'Why don't you go and sort them keys out and I'll be along in a minute.'

As Brendan watched, the two of them seemed to make all sorts of gestures with their eyes, as though they were having a private conversation without the need for words. From what Brendan could infer from the looks passing between them, it was something along the lines of Ste telling Mitzeee to give them some space, followed by her response warning him not to to give in to any bullshit.

Ste's arm on her shoulder gently guided her towards the slightly ajar door and hurried her out. All the while she was still eyeing Brendan suspiciously. He admired her for looking out for Ste, he really did, but he wouldn't be intimidated by her and told her so by refusing to break her gaze.

'Sorry about that,' Ste apologised as soon as the door was closed. 'Hang on, what am I saying sorry for? Mitzeee's right, you've got some bloody cheek coming here.'

Brendan couldn't keep the twinge of a smile from his lips. He loved it when the boy got feisty. The sight of it sent an uncontrollable thrill of heat and fire rushing through his nervous system.

'That's exactly why I'm here, Steven,' Brendan retorted calmly, as though it was obvious and Ste was the one being unreasonable. 'I came to find out what exactly I can do to make it up to you.'

Ste smirked at the memory Brendan's words recalled and his eyebrows shot up expectantly. Brendan knew he had him, right then, not that he had been unsure before. He just hadn't expected it to be that easy. 'You see,' he leant in and breathed into the boy's ear just for good measure, 'I've got my own special set of life skills.'

He felt Ste's breath hitch as he spoke.

'Thought you might let me show you.'

Brendan had managed to get his hand underneath the back of Ste's shirt unnoticed and dragged a finger down his spine, making him shiver.

'Just promise me there are no more surprises,' Ste said, mock-pouting.

'Oh I couldn't do a thing like that..' The charge in Brendan's words had Ste forgetting why he had asked in the first place.

'And… and…'

'Spit it out Steven'

'I want you to take me on a proper date.'

'Seriously? A date? That's it?' He hadn't expected it to be quite that easy. Dates Brendan could do. Dates Brendan was good at. Within seconds he had come up with a plan.

Ste's head was still dipped shyly from his request but as he looked up there was a glimmer of something like hope beginning to sparkle in his eyes.

'How about I pick you up tomorrow night and take you for dinner at the Harbour Hotel?'

The glimmer in Ste's eyes had turned into a full-blown glint.

'Dead nice there innit?' He looked coy and pleased as he broke into a smile - exactly how Brendan wanted him. Well, not quite exactly how he wanted him, but it was a start.

'Best steak in town,' Brendan all but whispered seductively.

To Brendan's surprise, just as quickly as it had come, Ste's smirk had changed back into to that irresistible pout. Not what Brendan had expected.

'No, but hang on, I know what you're tryna do. You're already think about booking a hotel room aren't ya? That's not what this is about Brendan! You can't buy your way out of this one, so no trying any funny business, right?'

'I think you've missed the point of what a date is, young Steven.' Brendan couldn't help but laugh at the ferocity of Ste's sudden outrage.

The boy was right though. How had he seen through the gesture like that? It was unnerving. Brendan had indeed been mentally booking a hotel room for them. But who could blame him for trying? Most guys would see it as a treat or a compliment, being taken for a fancy dinner with the surprise a night in a five-star hotel to follow. But Brendan already knew that Ste wasn't anything like the rest of them.

'So what do you want to do then?'

Ste looked pensive for a moment. Then a thought suddenly came to him and his eyes lit up so brightly that Brendan couldn't have refused him, even if he had wanted to.

'Cinema!'

'Cinema it is then.'

—

'Two beers please. And popcorn. Sweet. Large, obviously,' Brendan added.

The man put the goods on the counter.

'And for you sir?' The guy behind the counter directed his question at Ste.

'Nothing, ta. I'll share his.'

Ste reached over and grabbed a handful of the popcorn Brendan was now holding, as if to demonstrate his point. He smiled cheekily at Brendan's look of outrage.

'Steven! What have I told you about not sharing food?'

'But you do share food with me though, don't ya?' There was a challenge, a certainty in Ste's eyes, courage from remembering back to the restaurant incident with Sean and Noah.

'One time! That was one time!'

'Twice actually.'

'What? Oh. The bacon sandwiches?'

Ste nodded.

'That wasn't sharing. I made those for you. They were yours.'

'Ah, you shouldn't have. Gave me a bite of yours as well though, didn't ya?' Ste winked at him as he grabbed another fistful of popcorn, knowing he had Brendan over a barrel and he was loving every second of it.

Fuck. He was right. Had he really given away a bite of his bacon sandwich? He must have it worse for the boy than he thought.

The film passed uneventfully. Brendan had promised he would be a gentleman tonight, on his best behaviour, and he was determined to stick to it - however tempting it was to try and cop a feel when the lights went down.

By the time they had left the building and were walking without any real thought or direction down the main strip, Ste had begun chattering again, mostly about the film they had just seen, as though he needed to make up for the two hours of silence.

'I had a right thing for Mark Wahlberg when I was a kid. I thought it was just cos I looked up to him, you know, saw myself in him - getting into trouble and stuff. And I always wanted a brother like that, like he did. But that doesn't explain why I had one of those posters of him in his boxers on my bedroom wall though, does it?' He laughed with the weight of retrospect.

'Hmph. Him? Really?'

'No need to get all jealous on me, Brendan! But you have to admit, he was fit in them Calvin Kleins. And I was just a kid. Didn't know any better, did I?' Ste nudged Brendan, as though to emphasise what he had learnt since.

That drew a smirk to Brendan's lips.

'Only child?'

Ste nodded his head, wistfully.

'Can't exactly see you as a tearaway teen though Steven.' He brushed down his hand around the collar and down the sleeve of Ste's immaculately ironed shirt as if to press his point home.

'Hey! I was dead bad as a kid me. Always getting into trouble. Nicking cars and stuff. Starting fights. Knocking our Amy up as well.'

Brendan raised an eyebrow and gave the boy a curious sidelong glance.

'Wasn't until I was a dad I realised I couldn't carry on like that, the way I was. Wanted something better for me kids than I had, you know?'

'Mmmm.' Brendan's look and quiet nod told Ste that he knew exactly what he meant.

'How long were you married, Brendan?'

'Too long.'

He knew they were meant to be getting to know each other, heck he might even be drawn into admitting that he was enjoying the easy flow of conversation, even if most of it was coming from one direction, but the last thing he wanted to think about right now was his ex-wife. That can of worms could definitely wait.

'You must have been dead young when you had kids too. That was them yesterday, wasn't it?'

'Mmm.'

'Why didn't you tell me about them? Before, I mean. You never said.'

'I dunno... I guess... I'd just rather keep them separate from all this…' He swept his arm to take in the whole scene - the bars, the lights, the people.

'Oh right.' Ste looked suddenly downtrodden.

'Not you, Steven. This. All this. The nightlife, the drinking, the fights. It's no place for kids.'

'Our Amy thinks that too. I keep telling her it's not that bad out here, the kids'd love it if they came. And I'd love to give them a holiday out here in the sun, kids club and everything. Something I never had…'

Brendan stopped walking and had turned his attention from the pavement. He was watching Ste intently as he spoke.

'Has anyone ever told you you talk too much, Steven?'

'All the time.' He smiled cheekily as he said it, entirely himself, wholly unapologetic, just how Brendan hoped he would always be.

'Well maybe someone needs to shut you up…'

He leant in and pressed his lips to the boy's, firmly, just once, as if testing the water. When he caught sight of Ste's eyelashes flickering closed he moved in again more hungrily, tasting the juicy flesh, sucking, pushing his tongue into the warm, enveloping wetness of Ste's mouth.

As if suddenly reminded by where they were and the buzz of life around them, Brendan pulled away gently, leaving them both wanting more, eyes flickering back and forth between eyes and lips.

In a voice filled with promise he whispered, 'C'mon, I'll walk ye home.'

Despite Ste's earlier protests, their steps were laced with inevitability at what was to come once they reached Ste's front door. They walked in silence as if the weight of the knowledge they shared without words was enough.

'This is me,' Ste stated coyly when they arrived.

They stood still facing each other across the fresh night air. Neither man was the first to move, neither stepped away nor closed the distance between them.

'So thanks for walking me home and tonight and everything..' Ste stated awkwardly.

'S'alright Steven. My pleasure.' Then as if needing to add something by way of reassurance, Brendan said, 'Anytime, yeah?' But it wasn't really a question. He held out his palm and cupped Ste's cheek.

Feeling the heat and the softestness of the skin from such a small part of the Irishman's body was all the invitation Ste needed. He was suddenly overwhelmed with sensory memories of what they had shared. He tilted his head into Brendan's touch and thrust his body forward and after that everything became blurry.

Who kissed who first didn't seem to matter, their hunger matched each other's kiss to kiss, touch to desperate touch. Ste pulled his fingers through Brendan's hair as the older man dug his fingers into Ste's buttocks, causing the younger man to thrust himself involuntarily forward against Brendan's groin. The closeness of their bodies railed against the separations and interruptions that had stood in their way since that night on the beach. It seemed like nothing was going to keep them apart tonight.

When Brendan pulled back, Ste thought he was coming up for breath or about to take his hand and ask to be led inside.

'Steven… please just…' Brendan placed his palm against Ste's chest. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be battling with himself. The strain of what he was about to say creased his face. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and as he ran his fingers through the front of Ste's hair he said simply, 'Goodnight Steven.'

Brendan knew if Ste kissed him again or he himself went back in for a final goodnight kiss then it would all be over. But he had to do this.

He trailed his fingers down the warm clamminess of Ste's cheek.

Then he had to do what he had promised. He had walk away.


End file.
